Swan Dive
by avatardsherlockian
Summary: Molly Hooper has helped Sherlock Holmes fake his death and let him stay in her flat until he can clear his name and kill Moriarty's men. Molly gets in trouble and Sherlock needs to rescue her. Post Reichenbach. Sherlolly and later John/Mary.
1. An Easy Answer

**Hello! My name is Melanie! I wrote this story because I ship Sherlolly 100%! Okay. This is the first time I have ever written a story before like ever except for school assignments so bear with me! Thanks goes out to my sister, Jess, who is writing her own book and gave me tips and critique. :) Please write a review and enjoy!**

Molly's POV

I was going home after a long shift at Bart's. I grasped the door handle and opened it slightly, only to be letting it go a second later when I heard a deep and familiar voice.

"You're wrong you know," the man said.  
I squeaked and turned on my heels to find Sherlock Holmes, the man of my dreams, standing far away. I could tell it was him the moment I saw him, due to his signature trench coat and curls. Oh how I loved those curls. _Stay focused, Molly Hooper_.

He continued. "You do count. You've always counted and I've always trusted you."

Wait what did he just say? I count to him? So many amazing things just came out of those amazing lips of his. Oh, great. The butterflies again. I think I'm going to call it the Sherlock Syndrome now. Yeah. That's what I have. The Sherlock Syndrome. An incurable disease.

He turned his head to me, "But you were right. I'm not okay."

"Tell me what's wrong," I said with worry in my eyes.

He stood up and spoke, "Molly," he paused and then said, "I think I'm going to die."

I was dead in my tracks. What? He's going to die? Why? So much worry and panic flew through my mind and I could hardly process this. Sherlock fucking Holmes is not going to really die. He's just joking, I know it. He wouldn't allow himself to die. He would find a way to fight off the Grim Reaper! That's it. He's joking. Period.

After a few seconds I finally cleared my head, "What do you need?"

He moved closer every time he spoke, "If I wasn't everything you think I am, everything that I think I am, would you still want to help me?"

I knew what my answer was. I didn't even think or tell myself to say it but I did. I said almost immediately, "What do you need?"

With two more steps he concluded what I already knew he was going to say, "You."

I knew what he was asking me to do. He wants me to help him fake his death. I walked up to him one more step and I knew we were less than a foot from each other. _Why did I do that?_ I was usually incredibly uncomfortable and shy in front of Sherlock when he was three feet away. _Why am I so calm when I'm so close to him? When I can feel his warm breath on my face? _ I decided not to question my new found confidence in that one moment and let his breath warm my entire body. I knew now that I was blushing. I could get lost in that moment, but I had to focus. _Stop drooling over him and help Sherlock fake his death. Wait. What did I just say? Oh, whatever!_ He had been staring at me the entire time. He wasn't deducing, but looking. I looked up into his eyes_. Are those tears? Is Sherlock Holmes crying?_ I had never seen him like this. He had never taken his eyes off of me the entire time. There it came again. The Sherlock Syndrome.

I wasn't entirely confident in my conclusion so to clarify what he was asking me to do I asked, "Just to be clear, you want me to help you fake your death, right?"

"Yes, Molly. Impressive deduction. Will you help me?"

"Yes. Of course, Sherlock."

Sherlock gave me a little smile that showed his gratitude, but one that says "I'd love to stand here and talk about boys all day, but we really need to get down to business." There was a silent pause that felt like it went on for ages. I felt awkward again and stepped to the side and walked briskly back to the mortuary with Sherlock right behind me.

Sherlock's POV

I decided to forget about this because it clearly made her uncomfortable and made me uncomfortable as well.

I was quite impressed with Molly's deduction. How did she figure it out? I know it isn't that hard to find out, but that's what I would think if I was in her shoes. It would be easy for me to figure out, but not for an ordinary person. Molly was smarter than I gave her credit for.

Tears had welled up in my eyes. I told myself not to let them fall and I swallowed back the tears. I hoped she didn't see them. I knew she did though. I had never cried in front of anyone, not even John. The thought of John made me sad. I'm not going to be able to see him until I get rid of Moriarty's men and clear my name. With the essence of John in my head, I quickly wiped away at my eyes and turned with one swift movement like a soldier and followed Molly back into the mortuary.

**Okay there it was. Thoughts? I probably rewrote this chapter like 3 times! Please review! ^_^**


	2. I Won't Be Losing Everything

**Here's the second chapter! This is a shorter chapter. Sorry! I had a lot of difficulty writing and rewriting this. My bro gave me some tips on the first chapter so I had to change the first chapter and the second chapter. Thanks goes out to my brother and sister, Nick and Jess, for helping me! Thanks also goes to magicstrikes and Hellscrimsonangel for my first reviews! Thanks a lot and enjoy!**

Molly's POV

I, Molly Hooper, forensic pathologist, must help Sherlock Holmes, the only consulting detective, fake his death. No pressure.

I nervously brushed a piece of hair out of my face and shrugged off my bag and coat. I turned around, walked around Sherlock and grabbed my lab coat from behind the door. When I took it off I noticed Sherlock's riding crop hanging on the same hook, forgotten there from the last time he used it. I guess he won't be using that for a while.

I turned and looked at him while I put on my lab coat, rolling up the sleeves, and crossed my arms, "So. Are you going to tell me your plan?"

"Uh. About that," He sat down.

"Sherlock? Were you not planning on telling me that you don't have a plan," I said with a sigh and sat on a stool. He put his elbows on the table and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. He held his head up high with his fingertips, staring at nothing but the wall. I sat next to him and put my hand on his shoulder. He tensed up and I leaned closer to him, "Sherlock. I'll help you come up with a plan."

Sherlock sighed and looked down at me with an irritated look on his face, "Molly. I need to fake my death. How can _you_ figure it out if _I_ can't?" He yelled and looked away, putting his fingertips to the bottom of his chin and sighed in a short huff.

I wasn't sure if I should be angry at him but I decided to forget about it. He was too frustrated, that he couldn't figure out anything and got even angrier at himself. I knew I had to be cautious with him. I've never see him this angry before. I took my hand off of his shoulder gently and placed my hand gingerly on top of his. I entwined my fingers with his and he looked down at me with a sad look spread across his face. I could tell that he had been trying to put more pieces of the plan together for days maybe even weeks. He probably hasn't slept or eaten either.

"I'm sorry, Molly. I don't know what to do. I can't figure anything out. I'm so lost." He looked down at our hands and squeezed my hand a little bit more.

I put my other hand on top of both of ours and held his hand in between mine, "Sherlock. We will figure this out. Do you know why you can't think straight?"

"No. You do though. What is wrong with me?"

"Yeah I do. There's nothing wrong with you Sherlock. You're actually acting human," I said hesitantly to make sure I didn't make him mad. I continued, "You can't think straight because you will lose everything you every cared about when you jump off of that roof. John, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade. Sherlock, can't you see what this is? It's sentiment."

Sherlock's POV

"Sentiment? I've never felt that before. I've never felt anything before," I said with a puzzled look on my face. Why was I feeling sentiment? I know why other people would feel sentiment for all of the reasons Molly just told me. I think I care for those people but I've never felt sentiment for anyone. Is caring and sentiment the same thing? I went into my mind and found my own personal dictionary.

_Sentiment: A thought, view, or attitude, especially one based mainly on emotion instead of reason._

_Caring: An interpersonal process involving an emotional commitment to, and a willingness to act on behalf of, a person with whom one has a significant relationship._

I concluded; close enough. Sherlock Holmes feeling sentiment. If Mycroft was her he would definitely tell mother. Lestrade would probably film me on his phone and John would just laugh and give me a "I knew it" look. Mrs. Hudson already knew it was in me somewhere. I miss them already. Even Mycroft.

"Thank you, Molly. I guess I'm not losing everything I care about," I squeezed her hands one last time with both of mine and then let them fall apart in between us.

"You're welcome," she said with a nervous laugh. She cleared her throat and asked, "Do you have any ideas yet?"

"Yes. Now here is what I've thought of so far."

**And BOOM! I wanted to add the plan to this chapter but I thought that would make this too long so next chapter is about the "plan." Is it too OOC for Sherlock to hold Molly's hands? I don't think so because he is about to lose all of his friends. I think it's an actual possibility in the show like if he needs comforting from being away from his friends for so long. He is about to lose everything he cares about so it's okay for him to be human for a minute! Haha! I'll stop talking now.**


	3. We Can Work It Out

**Here it is! Chapter 3! Thanks to the new reviews from amirizar20031 My brother and sister haven't even helped me in this one so I hope it's okay!**

Molly's POV

Sherlock seemed so different. He had just held my hands. He would never have done that before. Sherlock went on and on as to how he would make a sedative to make it appear as if he was dead and did not have a pulse. I hardly understood half of it. He was naming chemicals I had never heard before, but I just nodded my head like I understood what he was going to make.

"That's what I have so far, but I don't know how to absorb the fall. I would obviously die if I just slammed onto the ground. There isn't any type of drug that can help the impact either."

We both just sat there, trying to think of what to do. I finally thought of something after almost ten minutes but Sherlock bolted up before I could speak my mind, "I've got it! I could," he stopped himself in the middle of his sentence, "Oh wait. The chances of me living in that situation are... blast!" He sat back down and sighed loudly and put his fingertips to his chin again. I sat there with a little smile on my face. That was adorable. He saw my grin out of the corner of his eye and turned to look at me, "What, Molly?"

"I thought of something."

Brilliant! What is it?" he sat at the edge of his chair anxious for me to continue talking.

"You could land on something other than the ground. Like on a bus or something soft. The bus would definitely hurt thought and I don't know what soft thing you could land on that wouldn't look suspicious. Maybe one of those big carts from the hospital that holds the patient's bedding. The chance of landing in it without hurting yourself isn't likely."

He looked at me with surprise, "How did you think of that?"

"I don't know. It just came to me."

"I would have never thought of that," he said with astonishment in his eyes, "That's absolutely brilliant, Molly!"

I took my hands and wrangled around my fingers nervously and looked down. Why was he being so nice to me? Of course he would have thought of that. He probably thought of it already and just waited for me to think of something so I didn't feel stupid.

"Molly, that's amazing!"

If he was kidding or making it look like I'm not stupid he wouldn't be so excited. Maybe he really thinks I'm not an idiot like everyone else in the world.

He stood never breaking eye contact with me, put his hands on his hips, and had a small smile on his face, "This is great, Molly! Alright. I believe that a bus would be the best option going forward. Well, downward," he said with a short chuckle. Did Sherlock just make a joke?

I laughed too and he continued talking, "There isn't an absolute assurance that I would land in a hospital cart. I am just as likely to miss the cart as to land in it. We have to go with the bus." He moved his hands from his hips, to his chin. He closed his eyes and sighed. He opened them again and started pacing back and forth.

"Mycroft knows about this as well. I can have him hire someone to drive it. I already have him hiring a man to run John down so he can't see what's really going on and give us some time to do whatever we need to do. I am, however, having second thoughts of my sedative idea. I'm not entirely sure that could work either."

He had stopped pacing when he spoke but had started pacing again once he stopped talking. I watched him while I tried to think of a way to it appear that he doesn't have a pulse. Immediately I thought of my father. Sherlock was like my father. I smiled at the thoughts that came to mind when I thought of him.

"Hey, Sherlock. I got an idea."

He stopped pacing and looked at me intensely, "What is it?"

"When I was little, me and my father-"

"Molly-"

Sherlock, if I don't explain it to you, you won't understand."

"Alright, fine," he said pulling up his trousers a bit and walked over and sat down next to me.

"When I was little, my father and I would put on magic shows together. He taught me all sorts of things. One time he told me to check his pulse. I did and he had I could feel his heartbeat. He asked me again and I couldn't feel his heartbeat anymore. I asked him how he did it and told me a good magician never reveals his secrets to anyone, only to his special assistant. My father told me that he stuck a piece of paper under his armpit. It was one of the last magic tricks he ever taught me. There is a major artery running between your armpit and side. When you flex, the blood can't reach your pulse. It takes around ten seconds to go into effect and you have to hold your arms tight your side. You would have to make sure it stays on you so you'd have to…I don't know… glue it to your shirt or something. The paramedics would wheel you into me and then you're safe."

"Are you sure that would work?" he asked.

Yeah. We did it all the time," I said and looked away at nothing just reminding myself of my father and everything I experienced with him.

Sherlock's POV

"That's brilliant, Molly!" I stood up and did a little half jump of excitement. I turned to her, "I need you to take about a pint and a half of my blood."

"For what?"

I am pretending to fall to my death, Molly. There will probably be some amount of blood."

"Right of course," she got up from her chair and left to go to a storage closet to get all of the necessary supplies. A syringe, needles, tourniquet, gloves, and alcohol wipes. I sat down and rolled my right sleeve up and waited. Another minute passed and Molly came back with all of the necessary supplies.

She dropped all of the supplies on the lab table. She grabbed my right arm and was about to tie the tourniquet around my arm when I stopped her, "Make sure you tie the tourniquet two to three inches above the antecubital fossa."

"Yes, Sherlock," She signed and gave out a small laugh while tying the tourniquet around my arm. I smiled and looked up at her. Molly looked tired and worn down before I asked for her help. Now she was happy and smiling. Just because of me? Do I really do that to her? Brighten her up with just a smile? I hope that's the case. I like to see Molly happy. When Molly is happy it's easier for me to get into the morgue. But there is something else inside of me. Something that makes me happier when I see her smile, hear her laugh, and-

"Sherlock?"

Her voice in the silence of the lab woke me from my thoughts.

"Yes, Molly?"

"You were staring at me," she said nervously and tucked a loose strand of her hair that fell out of her ponytail behind her ear.

"Ah right. Sorry, Molly. I was just…ugh… exploring my mind palace."

"All right then," she said.

While I was deducing why I had those strange thoughts of Molly, she seemed to have already taken a pint and a half of blood out of my body. I really zoned out. She put a band aid on my arm and I almost immediately ripped it off. I don't need a band aid. Especially not one with flowers on it. She turned and sat down next to me and already noticed the band aid absent from my arm. She rolled her eyes and looked up at me.

"I had to take off. It had flowers on it."

She started laughing and I joined in. We sat there laughing and enjoying each other's company. I can't remember the last time I had a good laugh with Molly. Probably because we've never laughed together at all before. Her laugh was quiet and sweet and when she laughed really hard she held her stomach while nothing came out of her mouth. That made me laugh even harder and I had to hold my stomach as well when it hurt to laugh. She stopped and sighed while I was still laughing. Laughing is fun. I always thought it was such a waste of time, but it isn't. Not when you have the right person to laugh with.

**There it was! Please review!**


	4. A Fallen Hero

**Here's the fourth chapter! Sorry it took so long. This was a difficult chapter to write and it is a long one. Thanks goes to amirizar2003 for chatting with me about my story and about Benedict. If only you guys saw our conversation! Haha! Sorry there's no Sherlock's POV! I'm starting next chapter as his though! Enjoy!**

Molly's POV

It was the day. The day when a detective who is accused of being a fake, falls to his death in a horrific suicide that will shock all of England. But they don't know that Sherlock Holmes is faking his death to save his friends. It's funny that the first time Sherlock has ever done something for someone he cares about, he has to fake his death just to do it. I now recall the last conversation me and Sherlock had. I went over the plan in my head again.

"Well. Here goes nothing," Sherlock said.

Uh…good luck, Sherlock."

"Thank you, Molly. For everything," he said and gave me a quick hug to show his gratitude. I barely got to hug him back before he pulled away again, "Okay. John will be back any moment. I need you to go out the back way and into the alley and wait. Do you have the blood?"

"Yes. It's right here," I said and opened up my lab coat to show him the packet of blood in the inner pocket, "Do you have something to use to stop your pulse?"

"Yes," he pulled a small ball out of his pocket.

"I guess that will do. Make sure you stay perfectly still."

"Of course, yes. Well…see you soon?"

"Yeah. Be careful, Sherlock," I said and gave him a small reassuring smile. I walked out quickly and sighed heavily while I walked down the hallway. I'm so nervous and I'm not even the one who has to fall to their fake death today. I hope this all goes according to plan. I stepped out into the crisp air and walked a couple of feet up the alley and waited. After about ten minutes I heard a loud pop. It made me jump and I put my hand over my heart. Sherlock told me Moriarty would most likely commit suicide himself. I tried to settle down and wait calmly for Sherlock to fall but my heart never slowed down. Another couple of minutes passed and there he was, his coat flapping in the wind. I thought I might cry but I held it back. He landed on a truck. He hit it face down and hard. Sherlock told me he made Mycroft use a big and tall truck because he had to have something that wasn't too low to the ground where he could possibly die or miss. Mycroft also hired people from Sherlock's homeless network to be on the streets in front of Bart's that day. He also told me that he had the driver put a bed up on top of the truck to cushion his fall. It wouldn't help much but it would absorb some of the impact. Sherlock rolled off the side. He had a large gash on the side of his head that was already bleeding down his face. He probably dislocated his shoulder and broke a rib or two. He only had to walk a couple of feet and he met up with me and he dropped to the ground quickly and face down. He went limp but kept his right arm tight to his side. I didn't even notice that I started to cry while I was ripping the top of the packet off with my teeth but Sherlock did. He looked at the tear running down my face one last time and then closed his eyes. Within a matter of seconds all of the blood was on the ground and in his hair. I took a bag out of my pocket and quickly put the empty packet inside, making sure not to get blood on my lab coat. I didn't know where to go or what to do so I did what any other person would do. Scream.

I screamed at the top of my lungs and put my hands over my mouth to look like I was scared. There were hospital workers outside having a smoking break. They ran over and dropped their cigarettes on the ground. Three of them went to Sherlock's body to see if he was alive. One of them came over to me. He was a nurse so he didn't recognize me and neither did anyone else. He took me inside the hospital and sat me down in the waiting room.

"You'll be alright, miss," he said and ran further into the hospital. Within a couple of seconds, he appeared again with two other doctors with a stretcher. I was unsure if they would recognize me so I put my head on my hands and pretended to cry. But I was crying. Seeing Sherlock like that was horrible. I never want to see him like that again. They passed by me and I got up and went to the mortuary. I shoved the door open, sat down with a huff, and let my head hit the table. I sat there for only a couple of seconds before I had to get up again to answer the phone.

I wiped my tears away and cleared my throat, "Hello, this is Molly Hooper."

Hey, Molly. It's Mary. I have a bit of bad news. Your friend, Sherlock Holmes, committed suicide. Jumped off of Bart's. He was dead on impact. We're bringing him down to you. Can you manage?"

"Oh, yeah. I'll be fine. I hardly knew him," I lied. That image of Sherlock "dead" on the ground will never go away, "You can bring him down to me."

"Alright," Mary said and hung up.

I waited at the door for the paramedics to wheel him down the hallway. After about a minute they were inside the mortuary with Sherlock. As he rolled past me I looked at him carefully. He wasn't moving. I didn't even see his eyes move under his eyelids that were peeking out under the sheet. He's good at playing dead.

All of the other hospital staff had left except for Mary. She woke me out of my thoughts. Apparently I was staring at him, "Molly are you all right?"

"Yeah. I'm fine. It's not every day you get to do an autopsy on a celebrity."

Mary gave out a small laugh and then left. I walked slowly up to Sherlock. I pulled the sheet down off to his chest.

"Sherlock?" I asked quietly.

He didn't move again, "Sherlock?"

He opened his eyes hesitantly, "Is anyone here?"

I sighed heavily, "No they're all gone. Why didn't you answer me the first time?"

"I was making sure they all left."

"Sherlock, I wouldn't start talking to a 'dead' body if they were still here," I said and used air quotes with my hands.

"Right," he said while trying to get up quickly. He slammed back into the table.

"You've got a large gash on your head, you've broken two ribs, and you've dislocated your shoulder. How about you try sitting up slowly this time."

He used his left arm to lift himself up and I pushed on his back softly. He finally sat managed to sit up with a soft grunt. He swung his legs off and dangled them off of the side. I started with his head wound. It was on the right side of his face and was about 3 inches long from his eyebrow down to his cheek. I wiped off of the blood that was now trailing down his neck and cleaned the wound. I grabbed a large piece of gauze and taped it on his face gently making sure not to hurt him.

"Now for your shoulder. I'll-"

He reached up to his right shoulder and popped it back into place. He let out a muffled grunt and sighed heavily.

"Okay. Or you could. Um… I need you to take off your clothes so I can wrap up your ribs."

"Yes of course," he said and hopped off of the table and grunted again. He stood hunched. He tried taking off of his coat but he couldn't so I stood in front of him and took off the right side carefully and walked around him and took off the left side. I set his coat on the back of the chair and did the same with his scarf. He was wearing that purple shirt again. Oh, god. Sherlock Syndrome. I stood in front of him again, "Do you need me to help you with your shirt too."

"I'm afraid so," he said with an awkward smile.

I reached up slowly and grabbed the first button my hands shaking.

"Molly?"

"Yeah?" I said not looking up at him.

"Calm down."

"I'm just nervous, you faking your death and all," I lied and laughed nervously.

"All right then," he said and looked away from me.

I sighed heavily but not loud enough for him to hear me. I grasped the top button again with confidence. It came loose and so did the next one. I got down to the final buttons and walked around him, untucking his shirt. I released the final button and pulled it off slowly on his right side and pulled the rest of it off on his left side. I walked out and went to the same storage room again and grabbed some injury wrap. Once I got to the door I walked to it slowly and breathed in and out, calming myself down and opened the door. He was still standing there in the same spot, unmoved. I walked over and stopped in front of him, staring into his icy blue eyes. I quickly looked at anywhere else. I took the wrap and started on his stomach. My fingers occasionally grazed his cold skin as I walked around him. He shivered and flinched whenever I did and I gave a curt sorry. I had walked around about 10 times. I did it in a figure eight motion. I learned that from a doctor who wrapped up my brother's ribs up a few years back. He said that would give the person's ribs more support.

"Why'd you do it like that?"

"It gives your ribs extra support."

"Oh," he said and stared down at me.

"What?"

"Nothing," he said and motioned to me to help him with his shirt and coat. I almost forgot his scarf. I snatched it off of the table and stood on my tiptoes tying it expertly around his neck. Our faces were barely four inches away from each other. I brought my feet back down. I turned around and took my lab coat off and put my coat on and grabbed my bag. I turned around and asked,"So where will you be staying?"

"Your flat, of course."

"What?"

"Where else do you expect me to go? Don't worry. I won't get too bored that I do experiments on your cat while you're at work. Well…I can't really promise that, can I?" he gave me a short smile and walked past me and out the door.

**There it is! That was very difficult for me. This is a conglomeration of all of the Reichenbach theories i've heard. Please review and tell me if something is wrong! **


	5. Wanted Dead or Alive

**PLEASE READ THIS FIRST! I wanted to point out that when you guys picture Sherlock hurt, he's not like totally useless and weak. It would be unnoticable to someone who just walked by him, so don't picture him looking really defeated and weak. Thanks for all of the review and favorites and again the discussions between me and amirizar2003! Enjoy!**

Sherlock's POV

Molly and I walked out of Bart's and out into the cold. We had to walk back to her flat to make sure no one recognized me. I know all of the streets, alleys, and shortcuts of London and used the homeless network to travel without trouble. We had been walking for 10 minutes before I could hear Molly's shivering. I was feeling a little bit better so I took off the left side of my coat by myself and let the coat slid off of my arm on the right side. I let her walk a little farther than me and I laid the coat on her shoulders with a painful grunt.

"Oh that's really not necessary, Sherlock."

"Don't be absurd. It's quite alright. I can tolerate the cold."

"Thanks. I'd freeze to death before we could get back to my flat if it wasn't for you," she said with a smile and a laugh. I could see she looked uncomfortable when she said "we" and "my flat" in the same sentence.

I smiled back, "I wouldn't dream of it."

That sounded weird… I would never say that. It sounded like…flirting. I would never flirt, especially with Molly. That was mean. I always say such nasty things to Molly. I don't know why but I just feel like it. I never enjoy it but I do it anyways. I've never really apologized to her except for the time I humiliated her in front everyone at the Christmas party. Molly was right. I do always say horrible things. Always. I made a mental note to apologize to her in the near future or the next time I insult her.

After another minute she spoke again, "How are you?"

"Fine. Why do you ask?"

Well you did just fake your death, Sherlock. You can't talk to John anymore."

"I don't understand."

She laughed, "That's a first. Aren't you going to miss him?"

I looked away and thought about how I was going to answer. I must have been thinking too long.

"It's okay. We don't have to talk about that."

"Honestly, Molly. I will miss him. I'll miss John, Mrs. Hudson and even Lestrade and Mycroft. Mycroft may have helped me but he is the British Government and is being watched by who knows what. He can't be seen talking to his dead brother."

"Good."

"Good?"

"You're showing that you care about other people. You're showing that you have feelings, Sherlock, and that's good."

"I guess."

"You never guess."

"Touché."

We both laughed as we walked up the steps and got into the elevator. The ride only took a couple of seconds and we walked out of the elevator and down the hall. Molly stopped at a door and grabbed her keys out of her bag and opened the door with ease.

I walked in after her and scanned the room. Small kitchen. Barely enough room for two people to move around in without bumping into each other. I walked a little further and looked down the hallway to my right . Two doors. One would be her bedroom and the other would be the bathroom. I crossed the hallway to the kitchen took a quick glance around. Everything was small except for the island. Plenty of space to eat and do experiments. Excellent! I then walked down the two steps to the living room and deduced from right to left. There was a TV in front of me and a coffee table and couch behind me. Next to the TV was a bookshelf. It was full of medical textbooks, biographies of famous doctors and pathologists, and what surprised me the most was the cheap romance novels. I didn't know that something else in the room would surprise me even more. At the end of the small living room in the corner, was a black wooden piano. She obviously took good care of it. I had been staring too long and she shrugged off her coat and bag and walked over. She bent down and leaned her elbows on the lid.

"This was my father's. He never got to teach me how to play before he died, but then I learned and found out I loved it. He loved to play Wanted Dead or Alive by Bon Jovi. Don't ask me why but he did. He died when I was seven and the song came out on the same year. I only heard him play it that one time."

"I'm sorry about your dad, Molly. He sounds like he was a good father."

"He was."

I walked over and looked through the stack of sheet music on the lid of the piano. A couple pages down was the same song. I picked it up and handed it to her, "Play it for me."

She looked at the paper and then up at me, "What? No."

"It does kind of apply to my situation, don't you think? Please." I gave her a pouty face and she melted like butter. This kind of flirty manipulation was the good kind. I sincerely wanted to hear her play.

She laughed, straightened up and walked around me. She sat down and said, "I'll play but I'm not singing."

"You can sing?"

"Well-"

"Nope. Now you have to sing."

"No! I'm awful!"

"You can't be that bad."

"Oh my god. Fine."

She sighed nervously and turned to me now sitting on the couch, "Don't make fun of me."

"Oh I'd never!" I said putting my hand of my heart pretending to look offended.

"Shut up," she said playfully and turned back to the piano. She began,

_It's all the same, only the names will change _

_Everyday it seems we're wasting away _

_Another place where the faces are so cold _

_I'd drive all night just to get back home _

She began with her voice low but cleared her throat and sang again,

_I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride _

_I'm wanted dead or alive _

_Wanted dead or alive _

I walked the short way to the piano and leaned on it like she did,

_Sometimes I sleep, sometimes it's not for days _

_And the people I meet always go their separate ways _

_Sometimes you tell the day _

_By the bottle that you drink _

_And times when you're alone all you do is think _

_I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride _

_I'm wanted (wanted) dead or alive _

_Wanted (wanted) dead or alive _

_Oh! And I ride! _

I smiled and closed my eyes for a brief moment. When I opened them she was looking up at me,

_I'm A cowboy, on a steel horse I ride _

_I'm wanted (wanted) Dead or alive _

_I walk these streets, a loaded six string on my back _

_I play for keeps, 'cause I'm not coming back _

_I been everywhere, and I'm standing tall _

_I've seen a million faces an I'm rockin' on _

She looked back down at the keyboard and glanced up at the sheet music,

_I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride _

_I'm wanted (wanted) dead or alive _

_I'm a cowboy, I got the night on my side _

_I'm wanted (wanted) dead or alive _

_And I ride, dead or alive _

_I still drive, dead or alive _

_Dead or alive [x4]_

Before she could finish the last note I straightened up and clapped for her, "That was amazing, Molly. Truly amazing. You have the voice of an angel and from my understanding, the skill of your father. He would have been proud."

"Thanks, Sherlock," she walked around me and put the sheet music on top of the stack, "But I wouldn't say that," she said and leaned on the piano the way she did before.

"What? Why? Did you not hear yourself? That was amazing!"

"You're just being nice. What do you want?"

I moved to lean my back against the piano with my elbows propped on it behind me. I sighed heavily and looked away, "I don't want anything, Molly. You truly are a good singer and pianist. I wanted to talk to you about that."

"About what?"

"Doing that to you," I said turning back to her, "I was always so mean to you. I said things that hurt your feelings and I after I said them I immediately regretted it. I don't enjoy it but I don't understand why I did it. I don't know how to be nice so I decided to be mean." I looked away from her again, "And manipulating you. I just felt so-"

"Sherlock," she got up and stood in front of me, "You may have been mean but you don't need to apologize."

"Why not?" I said and stood up and crossed my arms. Of course I have to apologize to her. Isn't this something she's wanted for a long time?

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed you wanted something, but you don't have to apologize. When you say all of that stuff it hurts. But I can see it in your eyes that you regret it. You have been saying sorry, with your eyes, with the expression on your face. You've been forgiven for a long time, Sherlock."

"That's not good enough."

She stepped another foot closer, "It is for me. I think it's time you forgive yourself."

"I can't," I stood up straight now, "I'm an awful person."

"Sherlock, shut up. You just faked your death for your friends. No one would ever do that. You feel bad after you say mean things. You complimented me. Do any of those sound like bad things?"

"No but-"

She cut me off with a laugh, "Sherlock, you're a nice guy. End of discussion. I've got tomorrow off. We can talk about what we're going to do next in the morning." she started walking away but turned back around, "Goodnight, Sherlock."

She walked away, "Goodnight, Molly."

She looked back at me one last time and closed the door to her room. I realized something. I've never been able to deduce much out of Molly. I could tell she had been in love with me the first time we met. I could tell she was smart, a hard worker, and good at her job, but not much else. Molly Hooper is a mystery even to me.

Still smiling I took off my coat and scarf and put them on the couch. I stretched and fell onto it with a huff. A muffled grunt escaped me. I forgot about my ribs and shoulders. I squirmed a little as I settled into the couch. _That's weird. I haven't been bored all day._ I thought as I closed my eyes. Who would have known, that the next time I woke, it will be to the sound of Molly screaming.

**BOOM! CLIFFHANGER! Now you guys probably hate me... anyways, i've always loved the idea of Molly being able to sing or play an instrument. The song is Wanted Dead or Alive by Bon Jovi. I think I have to say I don't own it whatever blah blah blah boring boring boring legal shit. Buh bye! **


	6. Brave Enough

**Sorry for the MAJOR cliffhanger at the end of the last chapter! Sorry I was so late to post this too. Very intense chapter right here! Enjoy! 3**

I woke up to the sound of muffled screaming. Molly's. I darted off of the couch and jumped over the steps from the living room to the kitchen. I sprinted to her door and tried the doorknob. It was locked. I screamed, "Molly?" There was no response but the screaming continued.

I banged my shoulder into the door over and over again. At last I stepped back quickly and kicked the door breaking the lock and opening the door so hard, the doorknob left a hole in the wall. I couldn't believe the man who was standing before me. He stood there in his signature suit with his hand over Molly's mouth and the barrel of a gun pressed against the bottom of her chin. Molly was wearing a light pink shirt and shorts to match. Fear overwhelmed her watery eyes.

"Honey, I'm home."

"Moriarty. How did you-"

"Don't play dumb with me, Sherlock. Remember what I said on the roof? You're me. If I faked my death, obviously you did too. Amateur."

"I should have killed you that day. At the pool."

"That hurts my feelings," He said as he slid his hand down Molly's mouth. He moved his hand down to her chest and traced his finger in between Molly's breasts. His hand moved down her stomach and rested on her side. Molly wriggled around and hot tears ran down her eyes. He is going to pay for that.

"If you continue to hurt my feelings I will hurt her. Physically and mentally. If you know what I mean."

I started walking backwards to grab my gun when he spoke again, "Oh, Sherlock. Don't you remember? Molly feared that you might shoot at her walls if you were to become bored and made you throw it away," he said and moved the left side of his face next to hers.

"Smart girl," He whispered sadistically in her ear and smelled her hair. She squealed and tried to come loose from his grasp but he was stronger than her and he pushed her closer to him. My fists clenched together in anger and he saw.

"Oh, Sherlock. Do you like her?"

"Yes. She's my friend and I won't let you hurt her."

" Well, good luck with that," he said looking down at her, "I like her too," he pecked a kiss on her cheek. Molly looked disgusted and squirmed again. I got even angrier at this. I took another step towards him.

He moved his hand up to her arm and gripped her tightly, "You're defenseless, Sherlock. No need to try and knock the gun away. My reflexes may make it go off and then bye bye to your little girlfriend," he looked down at her and smiled, "You know when we were dating she only let me kiss her goodnight. Classy girl. On our third date and you know what that means," he said and looked back up at me. Anger was written all over my face, "Oh don't be jealous, Sherlock. She didn't let me. How I wanted to though. She seems like she would be good, don't you think? Well you don't know what good is, now do ya?"

"There it is again. Making fun of me because I'm a virgin. You really need to get some better jokes."

"Nah. It makes you a little embarrassed, doesn't it?" he laughed and put on a serious face almost immediately, "Now let's skip the chit chat and get down to business. I'm going to take your precious little thing here. For payback. You should have died yesterday. Now she has to die to make up for your mistake. Don't worry. I'll take my time with her. Keep her longer than I usually would. I would usually keep someone for a couple hours, torturing them to death. Well not me. I don't like getting my hands dirty. With this one though," he said looking down into her scared and crying eyes, "I'll do it myself. And I'll enjoy-ever-second," he said and enunciated his words.

"If you lay a finger on her, I swear to god I will-"

He cut me off, "You'll what? Kill me? Oh Sherlock. You're the one who needs to get some better jokes."

"It isn't a joke. It's a promise."

"Well aren't you getting dramatic. The audience is on the edge of their seat. Please, go on."

I stood there waiting for him to speak again. I'm not going to play into this little game of his.

"I guess the moments over then? Too bad," he said giving a childish frown, "Well let's not waste any more time then. I've got places to blow up and people to kill. I wouldn't want to get off schedule."

He snapped his fingers and four red lights danced on my chest, "Wouldn't want you to try something while my back is turned," he said with a menacing grin. He opened the door leading out to the small balcony, "You might want to say goodbye to your little pathologist." He let her go and she ran over to me and hugged me tightly. Her tears soaked into my shirt as she buried her head in my chest. I returned the hug just as tight. She stood back and looked up at me.

I looked into Molly's scared eyes, "I'm so sorry, Molly. I've gotten you into this and now-"

She had never taken her eyes off of me the entire time. She cut me off, her voice unshaken, "Sherlock it's not your fault. Remember that. I forgive you. For this, for everything. It's been an honor to be your friend. Don't get yourself killed just to save me. I'm not worth it," she gave me a weak smile. She grabbed the back of my neck with her hands and pushed me down to her lips. She kissed me passionately and I was shocked and didn't know what to do. So I kissed her back. This may be the last time I see her, so I guess being out of character doesn't matter. Her lips pulled away from mine and I gave her a quick kiss on the forehead.

Sherlock, I-"

"Time's up," Moriarty said and walked up to her. He put his hand over her mouth again and moved the gun to her back and ordered her to walk down the few flights of stairs from the balcony to the alleyway. She struggled as she walked. I heard her scream my name from under Moriarty's glove. Over and over and over again. Tears were streaming down her helpless face. The red dots on my chest disappeared and I ran over to the window and looked down just in time to see Molly fighting to get into the car. Moriarty shoved her in and closed the door and I couldn't hear her screaming anymore.

"No!" I screamed and hit the window hard with my fist and leaned my forehead on the glass. I thought that I might start crying but I pushed the tears back and walked to the middle of the room right in front of her bed. I whipped out my new phone that Mycroft said no one except for him could track. I chose the second name on speed-dial. The first was Molly's. It rang for a few seconds and Mycroft picked up, "Hello dear brother."

"Mycroft she's been kidnapped by Moriarty!" I said quickly with panic in my voice.

"He's alive?" he said confusedly.

"No it was a magical fairy-teddy bear that looks like Moriarty. Geez!"

"That's one of the best jokes I've ever heard from you. Correction. The only joke I've ever heard from you. Now, who's been kidnapped?"

"Molly, of course! The only one besides you who knows I'm not dead! Idiot."

"No need for name calling, Sherlock."

"Can you forget about your ego for five seconds and be a normal concerned human being? You may not know her all that well but I care about her so can you stop being a daft punk and help me?"

"You care for her?"

"Oh do shut up, Mycroft!"

"Alright, alright. What can I do to help?"

"You can't be serious. I need you to help me find her!"

"I'll have my team look into it and make sure Lestrade isn't involved in the investigation. He might ask questions."

"Was that so hard? Thank you." I hung up quickly so I didn't have to hear some stupid but witty retort. I sat down on the end of her bed and sighed. I ran my hands through my hair again. I've gotten her into this and she may have to pay the price for it. _This is all my fault, _I told myself as I laid down. How can she say this is not my fault? Of course it is. And how can she be so brave? She's just a pathologist.

In that moment I realized that she's more than that. She is brave. She does autopsies on dead people that are so gruesome, it would make any other woman throw up. She was brave enough to wear that dress on Christmas and give me a gift that three x's on it. And finally, she is brave enough to love me. Brave enough to kiss me. She loves me but knows I will never love her back. I wondered what she was about to say to me before Moriarty took her away from me. I longed for her kiss again and that was a strange feeling that I've never felt before. It scared me to feel like this.

Molly Hooper is a mystery even to me. I'm a mystery even to myself.

**Thanks for reading :) Molly is so brave and that out of character thing that Sherlock thinks i out there on purpose for those who would think he is acting wEiRd! I even laughed at my own writing when I read "magical fairy-teddy bear! Haha! Review please :) **


	7. Saint Thomas

**HEYYYOO! Hello again! Pretty early for an update but why not! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, followed, and even took the time to read it! Just wanted to say that whenever I pictured Moriarty with a woman he would be all pervy or handsy. You know nasty crap like that. lol! Anyways please enjoy and review! It makes m ! :)**

Molly's POV

I was screaming my head off. My screams were silent to the world because Moriarty still had his hand over my mouth. I know no one can hear me but I'm not going down without a fight. Moriarty shoved me into the car and slammed the door. Two other men were in the back of the van and restrained me from clawing his face off. That would be fun. One of the men put a gag in my mouth.

Moriarty gave a huge grin at how I looked, "You're a feisty one aren't you. You know, we could have had a lot of fun when we were dating. But nooo! You're classy. Honey once you're with me, you will never forget. Ever," he chuckled sadistically at the scared look on my face.

I didn't try screaming or say something to him because I know that would just make him laugh and would make him pleased with himself. I looked down at my bare feet for the rest of the car ride while I could see him in my peripheral vision, staring at me. It took about a half an hour to get there.

We stopped at an abandoned warehouse. The two men pulled me out of the car as I struggled to break free from their grasp. Moriarty came up behind me and put his hands on my hips and whispered into my ear, "If you want me to keep touching you like this," he said and kissed the bottom of my neck, "then keep struggling."

I heard what he said and decided to stop struggling for now. It all brang back horrible memories of him when we were together. He would do the same things and I would ask him to stop and he would but he would also forget about what I said on our next date. I thought he was just fooling around or trying to have some fun. I was just about to cut him loose but he was so sweet and apologized so many times. I now realize that he needed to be with me a little bit longer so he can get to Sherlock.

When he walked into the lab when I was talking to Sherlock, I was afraid of him or what he would do on our date that was that night. I immediately erased my face of any fear and gave him a friendly and caring smile. As he left, he touched my back and that literally sent a chill down my spine. I gave him a curt smile as he walked out and I was immediately relieved. I was mad at Sherlock for deducing that he was gay but I was also thankful. Now I had an excuse to break up with him. If I had broken up with him because he was too handsy then he may have gotten upset and hurt me. _Thank god for Sherlock Holmes, _I thought as the two men pushed me into a small room that looked like an interrogation room. I'm guessing this is where Moriarty does all of his dirty work. There are probably piles of dead bodies in the back just waiting to go into an incinerator. My worst fears were confirmed when I looked at the white walls and floors that had faded blood splatter on them. A rolling table was in the back of the room that had bleach and…tools on it. Most of them would never be used for torture so I assumed that's what he uses to make his victims nervous…or to finish the job.

I was now sitting in a wooden chair that had straps on the armrests and the front legs of the chair. The two men came over to me and tightened the straps. The man on my left was ruthless and tightened the straps way too tight and pulled the gag out of my mouth without warning and smiled. He was bald and had a large scar on his face, from his forehead to the bottom of his right cheek. I looked to my right and saw a young and handsome brunette man kneeling next to me. I stared at him. He looked sad and angry. He tightened the strap on my leg and looked up into my eyes. His eyes were full of hate and anger and he tightened my wrist strap. I wasn't sure but I thought I heard him say, "I'm sorry." He looked at me one last time before he closed the door and left me and Moriarty alone.

"Are you pleased with your accommodations?" he said and circled around my chair.

"Do you really expect me to answer that?"

"I'm just trying to make a little conversation. When we don't talk then what am I going to do? I get bored quickly just like your boyfriend. If we don't talk I might have to start using these shiny tools," he said and walked over to the cart. He wheeled it right in front of me so I could see all of the things he was going to use on me. He pointed to which ones that were his favorites.

"I personally love this one. It's a little too intense for such a pretty girl like you thought," he said and picked up a corkscrew, "I only use this on the stubborn ones. You won't be stubborn will you?"

I was scared to death but I just stared down at the floor, making sure not to look terrified. If I looked like I felt he would be even happier and would have much more fun chopping off bits and pieces of me.

"Are you not having fun?" he said and crouched down to meet my eyes.

I had to be just as tough as that bald man had been. I hate Moriarty and I need him to know that. We only went on three dates but when I found out he used me to get to Sherlock, it felt like I got my heart ripped out of my chest. I remembered all of the things he's done to me, tried to do to me, and is doing to me now. I did something I didn't know I could get a chance to do. I spat all over his face. He stayed squatted there unmoved and unfaltered.

"Well that's unsanitary," he said and grabbed a towel that was obviously used to wipe up spilled blood. He wiped the spit off his face and threw it on the ground, "You're not going to be very nice, are you?"

I gave him a quick smile that made sure that he knew that I thought he was a sadistic little bitch.

"Feisty. I like," he said and circled around me again. He stopped in front of me and leaned close to my face and whispered in my ear, "Let's pick this up tomorrow morning. Get comfortable."

He pulled back and put his face right in front of me. Does he want to be spat on again?

"Goodnight, Molly Hooper," he said and walked out and closed the door behind him. He smiled creepily at me in the window and gave me a little wave goodbye like a child would do when they saw their best friend. He walked away and I was left to sleep in an uncomfortable chair all night.

I knew screaming was helpless, but I did it anyways. I screamed out of fear, anger, and hate. I screamed over and over again and sometimes screamed Sherlock's name, hoping that somehow he could hear me. I don't know how he will find me. We're at an abandoned warehouse that has absolutely no connection to Moriarty that Sherlock knows about. I was doomed. I was crying for what seemed like hours before someone slowly and quietly opened the door. The young handsome brunette man who had strapped me down before stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

"What are you going to do to me?" I said with panic in my voice. He wasn't Moriarty so I acted how I felt. Afraid.

"I'm not going to hurt you. If I was allowed to, I still wouldn't. Your name's Molly, right?" he said and I nodded hesitantly. I'm still unsure if I can trust this guy.

"I'm Thomas."

"What do you want?"

"I just wanted to apologize. I'm-"

"You're sorry? For what? Helping Moriarty kidnap me?"

"Hey!" he yelled. I wiggled in my chair, trying to somehow run away from him. He put his hands to his face briefly and looked back at me, "I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to hurt anybody."

"Then why are you his henchmen?"

"Because I did some bad things and got in trouble with Moriarty. I had to make up for it or pay for it. I could either work for him or," he looked down at his hand and turned the wedding band round and round on his finger. He looked back at me, "Or my family would have to pay for my mistakes. I never wanted it to get this far, but I have to do this or he will put my wife in a room like this and put a bullet in my daughters brain."

"I'm sorry," I said and looked away from him. I hesitated before asking, "What's her name? Your daughter?"

"Uhh… Heather," he said dazed. What? Did he forget his own daughter's name?

"So am I. I want to help you but I can't help you escape. I could get caught and I'm not about to help a woman I just met and put my family in jeopardy," he said and leaned down to whisper to me, "I can't help you escape but I can get help. Is there someone I should go and find to help you?" I was surprised that he asked that. Wouldn't anyone else just go to the police? There was someone I would have him go to before the police but how did he know that?

I hopped off of my train of thought and said, "His name is Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221B Baker Street. He can help."

"Okay. I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you," I said and looked back into his piercing green eyes. There was kindness in his eyes but something underneath scared me.

"You're a pretty brave girl," he stood up and gave me a weak smile. He looked away uncomfortable about something.

"What's wrong?"

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked back down to me, "He sent me in here to…shut you up," he leaned down again and whispered, "I'm gonna yell a little bit and you have to stop screaming and crying…please…"

"Okay…"

"Be prepared," he stood up straight again and started yelling at me, "Shut up you stupid girl! Do you want Moriarty to come into work earlier than he planned and start carving you up!" he waited a couple of seconds, "That's what I thought!" he gave me an apologetic look and slammed the door behind him.

Maybe Sherlock might come and rescue me in time. I remembered the kiss that we shared and when he kissed my forehead. I really hope things aren't awkward between us. I know he won't want to continue the brief "relationship" that we never really had. I hope we can at least remain friends, but I never regretted that kiss for one second. I smiled at the memory and waited silently for morning to come, which wasn't far away now.

If only I knew that my help would never come.

**BOOM! Another cliffhanger/suspense filled ending! MWHAHAHA! I hope you liked it! Please review! :P**


	8. A Bad Reunion

**PLEASE READ THIS FIRST! In my last chapter I had Molly say that Sherlock still lived at 221B Baker Street when he really lives at Molly's flat. Sorry for the mistake! At least I didn't have to make up some random address! Haha! Sorry for the mix up! Please enjoy!**

Sherlock's POV

I was pacing back and forth across Molly's small living room. I hadn't heard from Mycroft or gotten a call from Moriarty to taunt me. She could be dead already and I'm just standing here doing nothing. What am I supposed to do? I've been in situations like this before but it's never been someone I care…know… oh what the hell. I care about Molly Hooper and I don't _care_ who knows it. I have no shame in admitting that I miss Molly and want her back. I want to hear her laugh, hear her sing, listen to her voice, and smell her strawberry scented hair. She wasn't supposed to count. At least that's what Moriarty thought. She wasn't supposed to count and now she's going to die because of me. I have no leads, no evidence, and no one who knows where to find her. I thought I was about to start talking to Toby. He had never really given me any thought and kept his distance. I might have started to go completely insane if it wasn't for the knock at the door.

I grabbed my gun that I bought from a man in my homeless network a couple of hours ago. I walked over to the door and looked through the peep hole. A young dark haired man stood there looking nervous and afraid. He looked at the door and then to his left and right. I opened the door slowly, "Who are you? What do you want?"

"My name's Thomas. Molly Hooper sent me. She needs your help."

I opened the rest of the door and let him walk in, the gun still behind my back, "Is she alright? Is she hurt?"

"No. Well not yet," he said looking uncomfortable.

I pulled my gun on him, "Do you work for him? For Moriarty?"

He put his hands up and backed away a few steps, "I do but only because he is threatening my family. I want to help Molly. She told me to find you at this address and said that you could help her. She's a pretty brave woman."

"Yes she is. Now where is she?" I said, my gun still trained on him.

"She's at a deserted office building in Waterloo. I'll take you there," he said with his hands still up, looking at me and the gun and then back at me again.

I thought for a minute before I decided to trust him. I put the gun on the table slowly and grabbed my coat off the back of the couch, "Take me to her now."

"Yes of course," he said and started for the door.

I wrapped my scarf around my neck and followed Thomas out…but not before I secretly tucked the gun in the back of my trousers. If this man thinks I trust him, he is sadly mistaken. We walked down the steps of my Molly's apartment building and Thomas called to the streets for a cab. One showed up in front of us and he slid in and I slammed the door behind me as I sat down myself. The car ride was silent besides Thomas telling the driver where to turn. It took about 10 minutes to get there and we pulled up to the building that Thomas had described. Something doesn't feel right. Probably because Moriarty was inside. He does that to people.

I can't wait to rescue Molly and find Moriarty to beat his ass for whatever he may be doing to her right now. We walked into a large lobby that had desks and chairs but nothing else was in sight. Thomas walked a ways and turned around to face me, a small grin on his face. I walked up in front of him and looked around, "Where is she?"

"She's not here."

"Where is she?"

I told you," he said and took a syringe out of his pocket, "I will take you to her." Before I could knock it out of his hand or grab my gun, the syringe was stuck swiftly into my neck. The world started to go fuzzy and I collapsed on my knees, "What are you doing? Where's Molly?" Before I could hear what he said, I fell forwards. My face made contact with the marble floor and everything went black. The last thing I remember was Thomas's menacing smile while he looked down at me being dragged away by two large men.

I woke up in the trunk of a car. My hands were tied behind my back and a piece of duct tape was placed over my mouth. My gun was gone and so was my phone. The trunk was large but there was nothing in here that could aid an escape. I couldn't tell where we were going or how long I've been in here. The air wasn't running out so I figured I haven't been in here for more than 15 minutes. I saw something on the telly once that didn't make me completely and utterly bored or disgusted. In some crime show, a man kicked out the taillight of a car to see where he was. He then texted his friends in code as to what he was seeing and they followed his trail and came to his rescue. I didn't have a phone, but I still wanted to know where I was going. After a few hard kicks, the taillight came free and dangled out of the car by a couple of wires. I somehow managed to wriggle my way over to the opening. I looked out and knew exactly where we were. We just passed Burgess Park. _Oh no_, I thought as we turned onto a road that I knew led to a small abandoned part of town with some warehouses and old shops. A minute later the car stopped and I peered out and saw a large warehouse. It was also clearly abandoned. Great. No one can hear our screams and I bet Moriarty will mention that to me later while he's cutting Molly and I up. Poor Molly. She has to go through all of this because of me. I know she'll go down fighting. That's my girl.

The two large men opened the trunk and yanked me out. I would have tried to fight them off but I was still groggy from the drugs. They were practically dragging me. We stopped before reaching the door and both of them held me up as Thomas punched me across the face. I think I'm up now. I was able to walk by myself and I was alert as we walked the short way to the door to the warehouse. Thomas opened the door and the other men shoved me inside. I was thrown to my knees and stood before Thomas had the chance to punch me for not getting up fast enough. The two men grabbed both of my arms and started walking me over to a room. They shoved me again and I managed to stay on my feet. The door slammed behind me and I was left alone in an empty white room. Somewhere I could hear screaming. It was coming from the room next to me and I could tell it was Molly's. There was a large pane of glass that wasn't two-way glass but just normal glass. It was on the wall that connected my room and hers. Then it hit me. Moriarty is going to make me watch while he tortures her and she gets to watch me stand there, unable to do anything about it. A few seconds later lights turned on in Molly's room and when I looked in, I hardly recognized the woman who was strapped down in a wooden chair.

Moriarty decided to start on her without me.

**BOOM! Another cliffhanger! Thanks to all who have been following this story since the beginning and to those of you who discovered this little nugget a couple days ago! Lol! Please review! It makes me happy! :D**


	9. Spilled Innocent Blood

**Herrow! Here is chapter 9! Thanks goes out to amirizar2003, magicstrikes, and thatweasleygirl27 for reviewing often! Please enjoy!**

Molly's POV

I somehow managed to fall asleep in this god awful chair. I was awoken when someone brushed the hair out of my face. I jolted out of the darkness of my dreamless sleep and I moved my face away from his hand. He yanked my hair back so I was staring up at the ceiling. He towered over me with a look of satisfactory written across his face, "Good morning, Molls. How did you sleep?"

I didn't answer him and looked away.

He yanked my hair again and made me look at him. "What's wrong?" he looked down at me with a sad look on his face.

I started with my voice low, "You are an absolute git," I strengthed my voice and started yelling at him, "You are a sadistic little bastard and I hope you rot in hell!"

He laughed lightly and let go of my hair. He walked in front of my chair and stopped, facing me. He gave me a small smile before he almost immediately changed to being completely serious, "You shouldn't say such mean things. It hurts my feelings."

In a quick, swift movement, he slapped me across the face with his right hand so hard it left a cut. I cried in pain and I looked back up at him. Without warning he now slapped me with his left hand the same way but harder and left an even bigger cut. Hot tears ran down my face and he laughed in amusement.

Before he could say something creepy I spoke up in a serious tone, "Sherlock's coming. When he gets here he will save me and beat your stupid ass to death."

He laughed at the absurdity, "I'm stupid? You girl, are stupid. How do you know Sherlock is coming to save you and," he stopped and tried to imitate my voice, "Beat my stupid ass?"

I stared blankly at him, not giving him a response. I can't tell him it was Thomas. That would put Thomas's family in trouble and I can't do that.

"Let me guess. It was Thomas."

"What are you talking about? Who's Thomas?" I asked, lying about my knowledge of him.

"Oh, Molly. You were always such a bad liar. Even when you broke up with me, I knew why," he laughed at my obliviousness, "Thomas isn't trying to help you and he never was. He has always been helping me, you dumb girl." He looked at his watch and then back up at me, "Sherlock is currently in the trunk of a car, on his way here. Thomas led him into a trap and is bringing him here as we speak."

My eyes flickered with anger and I looked at the floor, silently sobbing.

"Oh, Molly," he said and kneeled in front of me, "Don't worry. You're going to die first."

He stood up and took a step closer to me, closing the gap between us. He towered over me and punched me square in the face, probably breaking my nose in the act. Before I could react, he punched me left and right over and over and over again. One of his punches made contact with my left eye and everything went dark. I could now only see out of my right eye and I presumed my left eye was now swollen shut. He took a break and cracked his fingers one by one.

"Honey, I'm just getting started."

I flinched as he started for another punch but he stopped himself and laughed. He took a breath and walked over to his cart of tools. He wheeled it over next to me and picked up a scalpel. He took the long way around and strode around the cart and stopped at my side. He crouched down and he put his cold hand on my shoulder, pulling my loose fitting pajama top down off the side of my shoulder. He dug the scalpel into my skin and I screamed in pain. It felt like it went on for ages before he stood up and looked at the carving in my skin. I looked down and my upper arm was engraved sloppily with the letters, "I-O-U." I remembered when Sherlock was muttering those letters when he was working in the lab a couple days ago. It was now clear to me that it was a message that Moriarty gave to Sherlock in the past.

"It's just a little message for Sherlock when he arrives. He'll understand what it means. It doesn't really serve any purpose anymore but it hurt, didn't it?"

He walked in front of me and set the bloody scalpel down with a clatter. He picked up a rag and wiped off his slightly bloody hands. My arm stung painfully and I could feel my blood dripping down my arm and onto the floor. I could hardly move my face without sending a shock of pain to my eye or my nose. I was still crying out of it though so I guess it isn't as bad as I thought.

Moriarty grabbed a mirror out of one of the drawers of the cart and held it up for me. I could hardly recognize myself and I looked away from the ugliness that reflected back at me. He laughed and returned it back to the drawer and closed it. He threw another punch to my face and I screamed in pain again as it broke my nose further and cut my lip. He was about to throw another punch before a sound came on out of nowhere. The song Stayin' Alive by the Bee Gees emanated from somewhere and I noticed a light came on in Moriarty's pocket. He reached into it and grabbed his phone. He rolled his eyes out of instinct and picked up the phone.

"What do you want?-Yes, and?-I don't care how far away you are, just get here!-" he hung up the phone and rolled his eyes again.

"It seems like your little boyfriend is going to be here any minute now. How is he supposed to rescue you if he's been captured too?" he said with a small pout of confusion. He snapped his fingers and his eyes went wide, "Oh, yeah. That's right. He's not!" Moriarty yelled in my face and walked over to the door, turned around and leaned on it.

"Let's wait. Do you want to play a game?"

I looked at the floor and again chose not to play into his tricks. He laughed and stayed silent for the rest of the time. I looked at the floor or down at my bare feet and I could see him stare at me out of the corner of my eye. He never once took his eyes off of me until the creaking of the warehouse door opening and closing, sounded throughout the building.

Moriarty turned around promptly and looked out the small window. He turned back around with a beaming smile on his face, "Looks like our audience has finally arrived."

He clapped his hands in excitement and turned the lights off.

I couldn't see anything, the room was total obscurity. Out of nowhere a cold scalpel threatened my neck. I jolted and the knife dug a little into my skin. His hot breath gusted against my ear as he spoke, "Don't worry. It's just for dramatic effect. You aren't afraid of the dark, are you?"

"Where is he? Where's Sherlock? What are you going to do to him?"

Molly, dear. You don't get to ask the questions." He dug the scalpel into my neck and a new trail of blood lagged down my neck. I screamed in pain and I heard a door slam somewhere to my right. It wasn't in my room but a room next to me in the direction of a large pane of glass that connects my room and the next room over.

"Who- who's that? Sherlock? Sherlock! Sherlock!" I screamed over and over again.

Moriarty walked away and the next time I saw him he flicked on the lights. He stood there with a large smirk on his face and motioned for me to look to my right. I hesitantly turned my head and saw Sherlock on the other side of the glass with his hands pressed up against it. His face flushed with horror and anger and tears almost automatically streamed down his face as he looked at me up and down.

His eyes fell back down on mine and he shouted, "Molly?"

**BOOM! I'm so mean for the cliffhangers and what Moriarty's doing to Molly. Poor Molly :( Please review! It will make me smile as menacing as Moriarty! ;))**


	10. Unrecognizable

**Here is chapter 10! Ahh! Thanks goes out to amirizar2003, thatweasleygirl27, magicstrikes, and the guest Lia! Lia if you are reading this, your review was the nicest thing ever! Loves you! Enjoy!**

Sherlock's POV

I looked into the room and saw someone who hardly looked like Molly Hooper. Her nose was broken, her lip cut, her right eye swollen shut, nicks on her neck, and something engraved into her arm, I couldn't tell what was written on her. Bruises had already started forming on her face turning a ghastly purple, green, and black. Most of the bruises were on the left side of her face and I bet Moriarty thought it complemented her swollen eye nicely. How could I let this happen to her? She was never meant to count, but I counted her anyways and now she is going to be beaten to death by her ex-boyfriend.

I can't believe this is happening. I wish this was all a dream and I would wake up on Molly's couch. She would be up already making me coffee and I would walk over and sit down at her small island counter top. She would sit down next to me and hand me my coffee while she sipped hers. Our elbows and knees would be touching the entire time and we wouldn't even notice. She would have her hair in a messy ponytail and would be smiling non-stop. The corners of her mouth would never once dip down to a frown and she would look at me wistfully as I chattered on and on as to how bored I was in her tiny flat. She would promise to bring me some body parts from the morgue. She would get ready for work and to my surprise, she leaned down and kissed me. I pondered as to why I would think about her doing that. When she pulled away and I opened my eyes, bruises started to form on her face and she screamed at me, "Sherlock! How could you do this to me?"

I broke out of my daydream that only lasted a couple of seconds and I looked back up into her eyes-well her eye.

"Molly?" I screamed and punched at the glass. Tears had started to stream down my face and I hadn't even noticed and I didn't even care that Moriarty was watching me, laughing to himself softy.

"Sh-Sherlock," she said in a low, scared voice.

I looked over at Moriarty who was leaning against the door, "How could you do this to her? You sick bastard! I am going to kill you!"

"How are you going to do that? That glass is two inches thick and you have nothing in that room that can even begin to help you escape. There's a guard at your door and will shoot you if you escape. For someone who is supposed to be brilliant, you are rather stupid."

"I don't care what I have to do. I will kill you, no matter what it takes."

"Oooh! Suspenseful!"

Something caught my eye and I looked over to Molly just in time to see a drop of blood drip onto the ground and into a pool of blood that was getting bigger by the minute. Moriarty noticed and walked over to her side. I immediately tensed up and waited to see what he was going to do to her next.

He looked back up to me, "Were you wondering what this said? Here let me help you," he wiped his hand roughly down Molly's arm and she screamed.

The letters I-O-U were carved into her skin by a knife. Another tear ran down my face when I heard Molly scream in pain. Moriarty walked over to a cart that had utensils used for torture on it and wiped his bloody hands off. He threw the towel back down onto the cart and kicked the cart with his foot. It rammed into the wall. Molly gasped.

"Moriarty," I said, my voice strong and unfaltered, "Let her go. She has done nothing to you. Just let her go, please. She's been through enough. Just torture me. You don't have to do this to her anymore. She doesn't deserve any of this."

Moriarty laughed and picked up an already bloody scalpel.

He walked behind Molly and squatted behind her. He pulled her hair down crudely so her face was right next to his. He kissed her neck where the blood was still trailing down her neck. He looked back at me with bloody lips and smiled inhumanly. He licked his lips and returned his gaze back to Molly. He laughed cruelly and made a fresh cut in her neck. She squealed in pain and he started laughing again. He stood up and dropped the scalpel on the cart and it hung off the side slightly. He wiped away at his lips with the sleeve of his suit.

"Jim, plea-"

"Oh, Molly," he leaned down and whispered in her ear, barely audible for me to hear, "It will be over soon."

He crouched down and unlatched her left wrist. What is he doing? Is he letting her go?

The second Molly's wrist was free, she punched Moriarty square in the face right where he had probably done to her, before I got here. He faltered back and reached up to his broken and bleeding nose.

"Stupid girl!" he grabbed the cloth off of the cart and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Molly struggled in her chair and tried reaching for the scalpel that was hanging off the side of the cart. She knocked it onto the ground and grabbed it. Moriarty was about to step on her hand but Molly turned it up right before Moriarty could stop himself. The scalpel went straight through his shoe and pushed out through the top. He cried in pain and dropped the rag on the ground. He grabbed at his foot, the scalpel still protruding from both ends. Molly let out a low, small laugh and a smile played across her face. That's my brave girl.

Moriarty pulled the scalpel out of his foot and grunted painfully. He threw it behind him onto the ground with a clatter.

"You're going to pay for that, you daft girl."

Molly stopped smiling and the fear rose in her eyes once again. He hobbled over to Molly making sure he didn't put too much weight on his right foot. He walked in front of the window, taking the long way around to make sure Molly didn't try something again. He grabbed Molly's loose arm and twisted it behind her back.

"Please, Moriarty. Don't hurt her."

He paid no attention to my plea and Molly let out a painful grunt as he twisted it even more. She screamed loudly and agonizingly as he twisted it even farther and broke her arm. Tears started to stream down her face and he let go of her arm. Her arm fell to her side limply and hit the side of her chair causing Molly to scream even louder. I didn't notice and neither did Molly but another tear streamed down my face as I saw her cry and scream.

The song Stayin' Alive came on and my eyes darted over to Moriarty. He rolled his eyes as he picked up his phone. He favored his left foot as he talked.

"What do you want? I'm in the middle of something!- Say that again!- How could you let this happen?-How far away are they?- Damn it!" he yelled and closed his phone and roughly shoved it back in his pocket.

He sighed heavily and walked over to the window. He stopped right in front of me, "It looks like your stupid brother got suspicious and sent one of his teams for you. How incredibly touching!" he said sarcastically, "Looks like I'll be going now."

"If you come after Molly again, I will kill you."

A flicker of something ran across Moriarty's eyes. Fear? Amusment? I assumed it was the latter. He laughed again not as loud or as menacing as before and he hobbled back over to Molly. He leaned down and kissed her left check, right on top of a bruise. She gave him a disgusted look and he backed away from her. He looked over to me and gave me a small smile.

"Catch you later, Sherlock."

"No you won't."

He walked out and closed the door quietly behind him and I could hear his uneven footsteps. As they faded away, I looked back to Molly.

"I'm coming to get you, Molly." I ran over to my door and looked out the small window. The guard was gone. I backed up and kicked at the door over and over again. I thought about leaving Molly and running after Moriarty. I could definitely chase him and stop him due to his foot injury. The idea escaped my mind immediately and I was surprised I even thought about leaving her like that.

I kicked my door one last time and it broke off. I walked out and looked around to make sure none of Moriarty's men were standing near. There was no one there but I saw a door close on the other side of the warehouse. It was a door that led up to the roof. I ran the short way to Molly's room and I opened the door and kneeled in front of her just like I did when Mrs. Hudson was attacked. I took her face in my hands making sure not to touch any of her bruises.

"Molly, did he-"

"No," she said and sobbed silently. I carefully rubbed my thumbs on her checks, wiping away at her freshly fallen tears.

I made her look back up at me and I gave her a weak smile, "I'm so glad you're alive."

She smiled weakly back at me. We both stayed there for a couple of seconds staring into each other's eyes, thankful that the other was alive and together after all that's happened. I snapped back into reality and I slowly removed my hands from her face. I looked away from her as I unlatched her ankles and finally her wrist. I carefully grabbed her broken arm and laid it across her lap. She let out a sharp hiss of pain and I gave her a curt sorry.

I stood up and put my arm under her legs and on the small of her back and lifted her out of her chair. She was surprisingly light and easy to carry.

"Sherlock, I can walk."

"Yes but I doubt you can even see where you're going," I said hesitantly making sure I didn't upset her. She's already been through enough.

"Oh, yeah…"

She put her good arm around my neck and I carried her out of the room making sure not to bump her head on the door. It was only a matter of seconds before the warehouse door opened and a swat team came in. They lowered their rifles at us and I yelled at them, "He's headed to the roof!"

All of them ran across the warehouse and up the stairs. A young woman paramedic motioned for us to follow her. We walked out of the warehouse and I slowly lowered Molly onto a stretcher. They started to wheel her away and stopped when Molly screamed to me, "Sherlock, don't leave me, please."

"I wasn't going to," I gave her a small smile and climbed in after her. I sat down on her right side so I could hold her hand. I don't even know why I did but it made her less tense and scared and she squeezed my hand back. I never took my eyes off of her and she would glance at me occasionally and give me a weary smile. I moved my thumb over her knuckles in a soothing motion. She looked over at our hands and she smiled up at me. I knew it made her face hurt to smile but she didn't care.

The paramedic laughed and I looked up at her annoyingly, "Problem?"

The paramedic looked up at me with a somewhat scared look on her face, "Oh, no. Sorry. You two just make a very lovely couple is all. You two seem to care for each other a lot."

"Oh, no we're not-" Molly started but I cut her off.

We're not a couple but yes we do care for each other." I was shocked at what I said but it was the truth, wasn't it? I gave her a small smile.

"Oh sorry."

"It's quite alright," I said and looked back down at Molly who had been staring at me the whole time. I rubbed her knuckles with my thumb again and she smiled and looked away blushing. What a silly woman she was. She's my silly, brave, intelligent, Molly Hooper and not even Moriarty will be able to take her away from me ever again.

**BOOM! Rainbows! I know i'm an awful person for making Molly going through all of this stuff! That's right foot of Moriarty! EAT THAT SCALPEL! If anyone caught the little reference to a previous conversation in one of the episodes, I will reward you with a cookie. This is realllly long and took me even longer to write! Please review! Updates are coming soon! Ttyl love ya! **

**~avatardsherlockian**


	11. A Case He Can't Close

**Hello Lovelies! It took me a while to write this because I've been planning a sleepover with my best friend and trying to find my first job ever! Ahh! Here is the 11th chapter! Please enjoy and review!**

Molly's POV

I woke up in a bed that was unfamiliar to me. Its sheets were thin and rough and the room was cold. My left arm was in a sling and the bed was placed in a half raised position. I tried to open my eyes but forgot about my swollen eye. A sharp hiss of pain escaped me and I decided not to try opening my eyes until the pain subsided. I didn't notice before but a warm hand held mine softly. I opened my right eye, fearing that Moriarty was next to me and I had dreamt of my rescue. The hand had long bony fingers and gave me a familiar sensation of warmth throughout my body. I sighed internally and carefully moved my head to the right as I looked over at the man. A sleeping Sherlock sat hunched over with his elbow on his knee and one hand supportively holding his high cheekbone, the other intertwined with mine. His mouth was slightly open and he made soft snoring sounds that made me laugh. He was so adorable in that moment and I don't want it to end. I laid there staring at him and all of the amazingness that is Sherlock. Us merely holding hands caused me to feel butterflies in my stomach and made me feel like we were the only two people left on earth. I wonder if he really did mean what he said about caring for me. I was just tortured so I guess he feels guilty. That's the only explanation. But if it was why would he be holding my hand as I slept?

A few moments past before I felt his hand move around and his eyes darted open. He took in his surroundings as if he forgot where he was. He felt my hand move in his and he looked down at our hands that were entwined together and smiled tiredly. I couldn't help but think about how perfect our hands fit together.

He sat up straighter and wiped away at his eyes before he laid his other hand on top of ours. He's so cute when he's sleepy.

"How are you feeling, Molly?"

"Well considering-"

"I'm sorry that was a bad question to ask," he said and looked away like he felt stupid.

I squeezed his hand and tugged at it to get his attention. He looked over at me with an apologetic look on his face that he had been wearing ever since he saw me in that chair.

"Sherlock. You really have to stop doing that."

"Doing what?" he looked at me confusedly, unaware of what he wouldn't stop doing.

"Looking so sorry that this all happened to me. I was never mad at you for one second, Sherlock. You need to forgive yourself because I already have."

"You don't mean that," he said and looked down at our hands.

"Of course I do. This isn't your fault and you had no idea that this was going to happen. It was inevitable and you wouldn't have been able to stop it no matter what."

He looked up at me and his lips curled up slightly in a small smile, "Molly Hooper, you are a mystery."

"Why would you think that?"

"I'm not sure," he looked down and considered what he was going to say. He looked back up, "You're like Pandora's Box. A case I can't manage to close," he quickly added, "But of course that myth has no truth behind it. You can't store evil inside of a box especially evil that you were given to by gods. Preposterous tale."

That was probably the nicest thing a man ever told me. I laughed and smiled a little brighter than he did before.

"So Sherlock how long have I been here?"

"Three hours and eight minutes. You passed out from exhaustion and fatigue while we were a few minutes away from the hospital," he said and got up and let go of my hand. I immediately felt scared and somewhat empty inside while he walked away. I sighed on the inside when I saw him stop in front of my bed and look at my chart. He frowned slightly at it. He brought it over with him as he sat down next to me again. He unexpectedly grabbed my hand again with his left hand as he sat the file on his right knee and read through it. His eyes darted back and forth as he quickly skimmed the entire page within a matter of seconds.

"How bad is it?" I asked.

"According to your state of condition that is horribly written with many spelling and punctuation errors, your eye will heal in about three to seven days, your bruises will go away in about one to two weeks, and your arm will heal in about a month or so. I'm not sure how long it will take for your cuts to heal though. I won't make you stay here for too long. Just until your eye heals. You'll be fine physically in hopefully a month."

I hesitated at first but then I asked, "A-and mentally?"

"I-I'm afraid that might never be the same," he sighed heavily and closed the file. He stood up and set it back down on the table in front of my bed. He took off his scarf and set it on the table as well. Did I seriously just think that even his neck is sexy? Dear lord Molly, what is wrong with you?

I didn't even notice the small smile on his face when he saw me staring at him. He took off his coat and laid it on his lap as he sat on the side of my hospital bed. I immediately tensed up as he did and thankfully he didn't seem to notice. He picked up his coat and laid it over me gracefully.

"I couldn't help but notice you were shivering a bit."

"Oh thank you, Sherlock. It was getting a bit nippy in here," I said and took my right arm out from under it and laid it on my chest.

"It's not a problem, Molly."

He looked back down at me with his icy blue eyes. I could see relief in them but somewhere still underneath was those apologetic ones.

After a moment of silence he spoke up again, "You should get some rest. I'll wake you up when it's lunchtime."

He started to get up but I grabbed his arm and held him down, "How much have you slept lately?"

"I didn't sleep last night and I just slept for an hour. I don't need-"

"Sherlock Holmes. You need sleep. Everyone does. I am a doctor and I recommend highly that you sleep as well."

"You're a pathologist."

"Same thing."

"Actually it really isn't-" I sighed dramatically and he looked at me confusedly.

"Would you just bloody go to sleep?!" I yelled.

He laughed at me and smiled.

"What…?"

"Do you know what's adorable? People who think they can get me to sleep. John couldn't even make me sleep and you have the audacity to think _you_ can?" he said jokingly.

"I do have the audacity. You know what else I have? The look," I made my eyes bigger and pouted at him and he smiled even more, "Pleeeease, Sherlock. For me."

"That was the look? I expected less. I must tell you Molly, if looks could kill I would drop dead on the spot. I shall do as you wish and try to fall asleep."

He got up and turned back around, "Do you need me to adjust your bed?"

"Uh, sure."

He lowered my bed until it was flat and somewhat more comfortable than before. He dipped down and hesitantly kissed me on my forehead, thinking I might think of how Moriarty kissed my cheek and freak out. It still reminded me of him but Sherlock's lips made me completely erase that moment from my mind. I closed my eyes when his lips touched my skin and opened them back up when he finally pulled away. He stood up and grabbed his chair. He pulled it up closer to the side of my bed and sat down. He put his feet up on the side of my bed and crossed his legs as he dropped his hand expectedly. I put mine in his and he leaned back in his chair.

"Sherlock, if you don't mind me asking, why do you want me to hold your hand?"

"I noticed how it made you feel safe. Plus it helps me know that you are still here with me."

"Thank you, Sherlock."

A few moments passed before I asked him another question, "I thought you had two broken ribs. Why aren't you in any pain?"

He looked down at me and replied, "Pain was starting to get boring so I just stopped feeling it."

"You aren't telling me something."

He looked at me somewhat impressed.

"What?"

"How did you know I was lying?"

"I can see it in your eyes."

"Remarkable. Just by looking into my eyes?"

"Yes now stop trying to get off the topic. Why are you lying to me?"

He looked away, "It's…personal."

"Fine," I said and closed my eye.

"What do you mean fine?"

I opened my eye back up and looked at him, "If you don't want to tell me why that's fine. I am curious as to why but I'm not going to force you to tell me. If it's too personal to tell me than I can respect that."

He looked closely at me. He wasn't deducing but just looking. After a moment of silence he finally spoke, "Thank you, Molly."

With that he closed his eyes and I did the same. If it wasn't for Sherlock's hand in mine, I would have had awful nightmares like the ones I will have when I get back to my flat because he can't sit there and hold my hand forever.

**I would like to take the time now to thank those of you who have favorited Swan Dive! Thanks goes out to amirizar2003, Atropa Belladonna, cyn4675, LadyStar10, loretta loves sherlock, ptricia928, and thatweasleygirl27! Thank you! Please review!**


	12. You Aren't Completely Wrong

** Hey guys! I'm sorry that I haven't updated for a while. My internet has been down for two days! At least it gave me more time to write! Enjoy and please review!**

Sherlock's POV

Molly and I stepped out onto the sidewalk after we both had to fill out an extent of paperwork just to get her released from the hospital. Her bruises had gone down significantly and her eye was now just a little bit red around the edges. Molly inhaled heavily, getting London air back in her lungs as I noticed the beautiful night sky above us. A black car was parked on the side of the road. I immediately knew who was inside and he opened the door and stepped out.

"Hello, dear brother," he said walking towards me.

"Mycroft."

He turned to Molly and gave her a quick up and down look, "You are looking considerably better, Dr. Hooper. Apologies for this unfortunate event."

Molly adjusted her sling and replied back, "Thanks."

He gave her a small nod and turned his attention back to me, "Sherlock we need to talk. Let me give you two a ride home."

"Where is home?"

"I imagine you'll go back to Dr. Hooper's."

"Is it safe?"

"I have set up a team to watch over both of you."

"Thanks but no thanks. I'd rather walk," I said and started to walk away.

Molly ran up to me and grabbed my arm, "There's no need to be rude."

She dragged me back with her right arm and told Mycroft it was nice of him to offer us a ride. Mycroft gave her another polite nod and stared daggers back at me. He got in and Molly made me follow in after him. She closed the door as quietly and as carefully as she could, afraid she might break the British Government's car. The car started up and we started moving after Mycroft gave the driver Molly's address.

I stared at Mycroft and he didn't say anything, "For god sake's Mycroft! What do you want to discuss?"

"I'm not sure I should speak of this now," he said and hinted that Molly wouldn't want to hear what he had to say.

Molly noticed the small eye gesture and argued, "If it's about Moriarty I can handle it," she said strongly.

"Alright then," he said and looked back at me, "Moriarty escaped on a helicopter. We weren't able to get a track on him and none of his men knew where he was going off to."

"And how do you know none of his men know of his whereabouts?"

"We made sure of it."

He was obviously saying that he tortured or threatened the men. I looked over to Molly and she looked away out the window. She must have read between the lines as well.

I turned back to Mycroft and asked, "Is that all?"

"No. We were able to catch one of the three gunmen. He admitted to being hired to kill…" he looked down at papers that were next to him on the seat and skimmed over them. Molly looked back over at him, anxious to hear who has been saved.

He looked back up and said, "Mrs. Hudson."

"Good."

"We also got the names of the other assassins," he looked back down at his papers quickly and looked back up, "A Sebastian Moran and a man who goes only by Thomas."

Molly gasped and put her right hand up to her mouth. She looked over to me, "Sherlock that's the man that kidnapped you. The man that I sent to get…" she trailed off and looked out the window again, her hand still up to her mouth.

"Molly it's alright. He would have come after me no matter what you said. He was only there to make you get your hopes up. It was just another method of manipulation that Moriarty used," I said in a soothing voice to try and calm her down. I thought she might have started to cry but she turned to look at me and gave me a small understanding nod. I gave her a small smile back and turned to Mycroft again. I could see him staring at the both of us as we exchanged looks.

"Something the matter, Mycroft?"

He snapped back into reality once he heard is name, "Oh, no. It's nothing," he looked back at Molly and then back at me with a small menacing smile on his face. What was he getting at?

The car started to slow down in front of Molly's apartment. Molly thanked Mycroft for the ride and slid out awkwardly, making sure not to use her broken arm to help her.

I slid into the spot where she was sitting and looked up to her, "I'll just be a moment," and I closed the door.

I stared back at Mycroft, "What is it?"

"I don't follow."

"Why were you looking at Molly and I that way?"

Mycroft laughed, "Do you not see what you're doing?"

"Mycroft, what are you getting at?"

"If you were me you would deduce that you have feelings for her. You obviously have some sort of care for her. You don't love her and never will. We both know you're not capable of that. It's something more than care though."

I took his words into consideration and knew that they were mostly true. I immediately stopped thinking about that. Care confuses me and makes me frustrated because I don't know how to deal with it, much less feel it.

I snapped back into reality and replied, "That's ridiculous, Mycroft."

"Which part are you referring to?" he said with a smirk on his face.

"You have no idea what you're talking about."

"You have no idea what you're feeling."

I rolled my eyes at him and opened the door I was about to close the door but decided to stoop down. I didn't want to say it or admit it but I said it anyways, "You aren't completely wrong."

I slammed the door behind me. I wanted to beat myself senseless for saying that to Mycroft. He will definitely tell mother about this and will never stop pestering me for finally admitting I care for another person.

I sighed heavily and opened the door to Molly's apartment. Well I tried. The door was locked. My worst fears set in and I felt like I was replaying that night.

"Molly?!"

I heard footsteps coming towards the door and Molly unlocked the door and let me in.

"Sorry," she said and walked into her small kitchen.

"Why did you lock the door?"

Realizing the stupidity of my question I formed a small "O" with my mouth and gave her an apologetic look. She smiled weakly back at me and put the kettle on.

"Would you like some coffee?"

"Oh, no Molly. Let me make you coffee for a change."

"Thanks."

"Milk, three sugars, right?"

She looked surprised that I even remembered and muttered, "Uh, y-yeah," she said and sat down at the counter. She put her right arm up on the table and rested her head on top of it. I really wish she didn't stutter. She had been doing well so far and I hope that she doesn't go back to muttering and turn into a blabbering fool around me.

I finished making the two cups of coffee and turned around. I sat next to her on her right side and nudged her hand with her cup of coffee. She brought her head up and looked at me. She gave me a sleepy smile and took the coffee in her hand. She took a large sip of it and then put it down.

"What was Mycroft talking to you about?"

"Oh it was nothing. Classified matters."

"Liar."

"Pardon me?"

"You're lying."

"How did you know that?"

It's in your eyes, Sherlock," she said and gestured towards them. She continued, "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"Of course."

"Then why won't you tell me why you're not in any pain from your ribs?"

"Molly, I thought you dropped the matter."

"I did but I still want to know."

"Molly, ple-"

She cut me off, "Sherlock," she said and pointed a finger at me, "If you can tell me anything than you can tell me why. I won't make fun of you if that's what you're worried about."

I sighed heavily and looked down at my coffee, "I know you wouldn't, but-"

Molly grabbed my hand and squeezed it firmly. She was hesitant at first but let her fingers intertwine with mine, "Sherlock, please."

I didn't mind. I felt somewhere deep down inside me I needed someone to hold my hand. My whole world was crumbling down around me. It was like I was in a building that was burning to the ground and Molly was my emergency stairwell. Oh dear god, Sherlock. What on earth did you just think?

"Alright," I took a deep breath and began, rapid fire, "When I was in primary school, people made fun of me for being observant and smart. I got beaten up quite often and was put in the hospital many times. I've broken arms, fingers, ribs, and a lot more. Pain was the highlight of my childhood. I've gone through things that a child shouldn't have to. If you aren't aware, I was into drugs for a short time as well. That was the most painful. I had to go through six months of rehab and I had to go back a second time after I started back up again. I eventually stopped because I saw what it did to the people who cared about me. Cleaning up was the worst hurt I ever went through. Now when I get wounded it seems like there's no pain at all because I'm so used to it."

I looked back down at my coffee, ashamed of what I just admitted. She let go of my hand and I thought she was scared or was going to laugh.

She wrapped her right arm around my upper arm and put her head down on my shoulder, "Sherlock that's awful. I'm so sorry that you had to go through all of that."

I continued looking down at the warm cup in my hands. I wasn't sure what to do or say so we just sat there for a while.

After a couple of minutes I finally spoke, "I've never told anyone that. I've never even said it to myself. Thank you."

"Anytime, Sherlock."

I looked over at the clock over the stove and saw that it was almost midnight. I smiled down at her and got up. I lead her to her room and she didn't bother going into the bathroom and changing into pajamas. She flopped onto her bed carefully and turned on her side. I couldn't see her face but I knew she was staring at the balcony door, expecting Moriarty to take her into his evil clutches again. I walked around the bed and sat on the left side. I looked down at her and her scared eyes were still staring at the door. She hesitantly looked back up to me and she started to sob quietly.

I really hate when people cry, but when Molly cries it's different. I laid down and held her hand as I whispered to her softly, "I know you've been hurt, but you've been a brave girl so far. You have every right to cry and be upset but you have to stay strong. Molly?" I waited until she looked up to me and spoke again, "Can you stay strong? For me?" I asked and gave her the same pouty face she gave me.

She laughed and nodded her head.

"I think you've realized this already but I… I can't hold your hand forever."

"I know. I-I just wish you could."

I gave her a weak smile and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. I didn't even think of doing it but I wanted to. I wanted her to feel better and I will never admit it out loud, but I like comforting her like this. It makes me feel like I am helping her with something that no one else can.

I was about to leave the room before I turned around. She was looking up at med with the same weak smile I gave her, "Good night, Molly."

"Night, Sherlock," she pulled the covers up over her and closed her eyes

I closed the door and walked slowly back to the kitchen. What am I doing? I'm playing with her emotions but I don't even have anything to gain from it. I wasn't even thinking about comforting her at all but I knew I had to help her somehow.

I emptied the rest of our coffee into the sink, set the cups aside, and walked into the living room towards the couch. I can't tell if I hold her hand and kiss her to help her or because I want to. Maybe it's both or maybe I just don't want her to cry all the time. I collapsed onto the couch and went into my mind palace. I won't be sleeping tonight. I've got a lot to think about and besides, I would just be woken by the sound of Molly's screaming again. Why bother with sleep. It's boring anyways.

**BOOM! I'm going to be putting up another chapter to make it up to you guys for being late! Please review! :)**


	13. It Suits You Better This Way

**Hey again! This is the unlucky 13th chapter! BUM BUM BUM! Please enjoy and review! P.S. Just because I updated these chapters back to back doesn't mean you don't have to review both! *hint, hint***

Molly's POV

After Sherlock left I closed my eyes tighter, hoping I can get this night over with without any interruptions. I knew that the short kiss on the forehead that he gave me would last for a couple hours and then nightmares will inevitably come. I could still tell where his lips had been, where they were parted in the middle. I could still feel the small smile he made when his lips touched my forehead. I don't know why he would hold my hand and kiss my forehead. He never did any of that when he wanted something from me so why was he doing it? Oh, Molly. You are so paranoid. He's just been doing those things to me because he can tell it makes me feel safe. That's all it is. Nothing more.

A couple of hours past and all of my dreams were about Sherlock. I had a few routine fantasy dreams about Sherlock that I probably can't say out loud to anybody, even me, or I'd get really embarrassed. Other dreams were of Sherlock and me holding hands and him kissing my forehead again. In my last dream he kissed my forehead and then unexpectedly kissed me full on the lips. I knew what his lips felt like against mine and this wasn't what they felt like. It was him at first but then his lips changed and the spark went away. I only slightly recognized the person's lips and I put my hand on his chest and pushed him away. When I opened my eyes it wasn't Sherlock who had just kissed me. It was Moriarty.

"What's wrong, darling? We were having so much fun," he looked at me confusedly and then his face changed to a menacing snarl.

Out of nowhere appeared a corkscrew in his hand. My ankles and wrist were strapped down tightly by hands that I didn't know who they belonged to.

"You're being stubborn. And you know what I do to stubborn people don't you?"

He walked slowly towards me and put his hand on my chin and yanked it up so I was looking at the ceiling. I started screaming as I could see the corkscrew come slowly towards my neck. I screamed as hard as I could but nothing came out. I felt the cold end of the corkscrew touch my neck and he laughed sadistically.

It echoed through my mind and all of a sudden, I woke up in my bed panting heavily. I sat up straight as soon as I opened my eyes and I swung my legs over the side of the bed. I was sweating and I reached up to my neck hurriedly. There was nothing there. I started to cry softly but it eventually turned into loud sobs and screaming. I had almost forgotten about Sherlock being here so I tried to be quieter about it. I couldn't help it and I screamed at the top of my lungs. I don't care if he comes in here. I want him to be here.

Just then the door to my room opened quickly. Sherlock stood there panting lightly and I could see so much fear in his eyes. He quickly looked over to the balcony and back to me and he sighed heavily. He walked over and sat down next to me. He was cautious at first, thinking that I might freak out at his touch, but he put his arm around my waist and looked down at me.

"Was it him?" he said hesitantly.

I gave him a small nod and I absolutely lost it. I started to cry again and I put my head on his chest. His body tensed up at first and I almost wanted to pull away but he scooted closer to me and tightened his grip on my waist.

"I'm s-so sorry, Sherlock," I said in between sobs

He shushed me quietly and rubbed my back.

"There's nothing to be sorry about. I'm surprised you haven't done this sooner. You are so brave, Molly and I admire you for that."

I was amazed at how honest he was being. I listened to his heartbeat and it took a while but our heartbeats were now in sync, "You've made me want to be brave."

"Good. It suits you better this way."

I lifted my head from his chest. That was a little dramatic to do anyways. I wiped the tears off my face and in my eyes and I looked back up at him, "How am I supposed to stop these nightmares?"

"Did you have any nightmares at the hospital?" he asked as he traced his fingertips on my back.

"No."

"So what's different from there and here?"

"Well you aren't with me but-"

"Molly if either of us is ever going to sleep again, I need to be here when you sleep. Don't take this the wrong way, but I need to sleep in your bed with you. I would sleep in a chair but that was making my back hurt the whole time. I would have lain with you in the hospital bed but it was far too small. Ugh…may I?"

I wasn't sure what to respond to that so I just said, "Ugh… sure?"

"Good I'll be up all night anyways. I've got things to sort through in my mind palace and there are so many rooms," he said and got up. He circled around the bed and flopped onto the bed dramatically. He was obviously trying to make me laugh or nervous and I did both. Sherlock bloody Holmes is in my bed. I envisioned it for different reasons but hey, a girl can't complain.

He didn't bother pulling the sheets over him. He closed his eyes and put his fingertips on the bottom of his chin. I imagine that's how he enters his mind palace, whatever that is. I'm not even sure what a mind palace is and I still would be surprised if Sherlock didn't have one.

I figured he was nonresponsive from this point on so I just gave him a curt good night and I closed my eyes. I had a dreamless sleep. Except for my Sherlock fantasy ones of course.

I would have never expected where I would wake up the next morning.

**BOOM again! This chapter was pretty short and kind of a filler but it had some nice Sherlolly in it, eh? Please review! Reviews make m E! :)**


	14. The Hair Is Saved

**Heyyy! I now have internet at my house but its not wireless :( Anyways here is the fourtenth chapter! It is also my story's one month anniversary! Ahhh! It's okay don't cry...haha jk! The chapter title is weird and thought of on the spot so yeah its weird...please enjoy and review :) **

Sherlock's POV

I opened my eyes. I was somewhat shocked that I managed to fall asleep but that wasn't as shocking as what else I noticed. Molly's head was nestled in the crook of my neck and she was lying partially on top of me. Her broken arm was in between my body and hers. She wouldn't be in any pain because it was broken at her shoulder. Her other hand was under her face, lightly gripping my shoulder. The morning light shone through the balcony windows onto us. Her hair was a mess from sleep and she didn't have any make up on and she never looked as beautiful as she did right now. I unconsciously put my hand on her back, tracing patterns up and down. She must have felt the light touches I was making and she nestled closer to me. I smiled at how absolutely adorable she looked. It's like when a child snuggles in with their favorite stuffed animal while they sleep.

I turned slightly to her so my face was in front of hers. I found my eyes lingering on her lips. I never did think they were small. They're absolutely perfect and they had fit perfectly with mine. I can't believe I'm thinking all of these things about her. I've never felt like this towards her or anyone for that matter. What's changed?

I snapped back into reality when I felt her move around again. She didn't wake up but our faces were only a few inches from each other's. I reached my hand up and gently pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. I found my hand caressing her face and stroking her cheek with my thumb. I resisted the urge to kiss her and I realized what I had just done, what I had just wanted to do. I gently pulled my hand away and a couple of seconds later Molly's eyes opened sleepily. I quickly tucked my right hand behind my head and let my left hand fall off her back and onto the bed, leaving no evidence as to what I was doing. She rubbed at her eyes with her right hand and opened her eyes again. She looked at me and then looked down at my body under hers.

She gave out a small gasp, "I'm s-so sorry."

"I don't mind."

She was tense at first but she relaxed and just laid there. After a minute she asked, "Don't you want me to move?"

"You can if you want but as previously stated I don't mind," I said and unconsciously moved my hand to her hair and twirled strands of it around in my fingers.

She let her head fall back in the crook of my neck, "A-alright."

I could understand why she was mumbling and stuttering. After all she is lying on top of the man she has been in love with for years. Perfectly reasonable.

I interrupted the comfortable silence and asked her, "Did you have any dreams?"

"Yeah. Just good ones though."

"What did you dream about?"

"Well any dream that doesn't involve Moriarty is considered a good one."

She was obviously lying because when I asked the question, she tensed up. We were lying so close together that I could feel her heartbeat, it elevated. She dreamed about something she couldn't discuss with me. Her dreams must have been about me.

"I see."

"Did you dream at all?"

"No. I hardly dream and when I do it's usually about big cases or new serial killers."

She made a small "O" with her mouth and gave out a small laugh.

"What's so funny?"

She stopped laughing and looked up at me, "Don't you ever dream about anything else?"

I thought about that for a moment and replied, "I do sometimes dream about gruesome dead bodies."

"No. I'm talking about a dream that have absolutely nothing to do with your work. Any of those?"

I had to think hard and finally something came to me, "Sometimes I dream about Mycroft and I when we were little. We would run around the house playing pirates. He always let me beat him of course. He grew out of it but I wanted to be a pirate until I was around ten and then I grew out of it myself. That is one of the few moments of my childhood that I like to remember."

She laughed and then looked away. She had a contemplated look on her face.

"What's wrong?"

She snapped back to me, "Oh nothing. I'm just trying to picture you as a little kid. You probably had the same unruly curls, didn't you?" she asked and motioned to my hair.

I nodded and sighed. I laughed at the thought of when Mycroft's hair started to recede at age thirty; almost exactly like our father.

I stopped twirling her hair in my fingers and put my hand on her back. She tensed up at the unexpected gesture but relaxed almost immediately.

I looked down at her and she looked back up at me. We both laid there for a moment before I interrupted the silence, "Come on. I'll make you some coffee."

She smiled at me and after a minute she got up, walking over to the bathroom and closing the door. I found myself smiling and rolling my eyes at her for some reason but I wasn't annoyed at her for anything in particular. I contemplated as to why I couldn't wipe the smile off my face as I got up and crossed the room to the door, walking out and going into the kitchen. I made two cups of coffee. One black two sugars and one milk three sugars.

With both cups in hand, I turned around just in time to see Molly sit down with a huff. She had brushed her hair and it hung around her face perfectly. She couldn't put her hair up anymore because she only has one good hand to use. I felt the corners of my mouth rise up at the sight of her and I set her cup of coffee in front of her. She huffed again and took the coffee off the table and drank a quick sip.

"What's bothering you, Molly?"

"Nothing. Just morning crankiness. My mum told me that I was always cranky in the morning," she took another sip of her coffee and looked down at it strangely.

"What's wrong with your coffee?"

"Well first of all this isn't my coffee. It's yours," she smiled up at me and laughed.

I looked down at my- her coffee and saw that it was considerably lighter than hers- mine because of the milk that was added. I laughed at the utter stupidity of the mistake and traded coffees with her.

"So what's your plan for changing your appearance? You must've thought at one point you can't rely on your homeless network forever."

"Yes I have been thinking about that. I'd have to get some new clothes, dye my hair, and maybe use contacts. The combination of my high cheekbones and eyes is kind of recognizable."

I saw her frown when I said dye my hair and I asked, "What is it?"

"You don't have to ruin those amazing curls. Just wear a hat. Please?"

"Would you miss my old hair?"

"Oh I could just die if you changed your hair," she said dramatically, putting the back of her hand to her forehead and pretending to faint.

I laughed at her and said, "Alright, alright. I won't die my hair but it will be just as strange wearing a hat all the time."

"Hey, at least I'll know those locks are still tucked under some ridiculous hat. I've only seen Sherlock Holmes in that god awful deerstalker. Now that was strange."

"Really? I thought you liked that hat? Well I assumed since it is the password on your laptop," I said and took another swig of coffee.

Her cup was halfway to her mouth and she stopped it mid-air and looked at me confusedly, "How did you- oh forget it." She finished her coffee, got up, and put it in the sink.

My eyes fell on her arm that was in a sling and I asked her, "How's your arm feeling?"

"Broken," she said with a small laugh, "It doesn't hurt as much as it used to but it hasn't gotten much better. It was broken in a very bad place and I think it'll take longer than just a month to heal."

I looked back at her arm and then back up to her and nodded. I finished my own coffee and set it in the sink.

I leaned on the counter and faced her, "You'll need to get all of my supplies for my changing of appearances. I've got an unlimited credit card from Mycroft. He told me that just because it's unlimited doesn't mean I can blow a whole bunch of cash. I'll have one of Mycroft's cars take you around London just to be safe. I'll need maybe a dozen outfits and a couple of different contact lenses. Don't make the outfits too me but don't buy outfits that make me stand out. I don't have a specification for the color of the contact lenses but I'll need probably two pairs."

I took the credit card out of my trouser pocket and handed it to her. She looked at it in amazement.

"You can buy yourself some things if you want but don't spend too much."

She snapped her gaze up to me and she asked, "Should I go right now?"

I looked at the clock on the stove and said, "Most of the shops should be open by now. It would be wise to go as soon as possible to avoid rush hour."

She nodded and went back in her room to change. I took my phone out and texted Mycroft to come and pick up Molly. A few minutes later, she came back in some jeans and a dark blue shirt. She grabbed her coat and her bag and headed for the door. She stopped abruptly and turned around, "See you later?"

"Don't worry, Molly. I'll still be here when you come back."

She smiled back at me and said, "I know." She pulled on her coat, turned around, and closed the door behind her.

I waited another minute before I pulled on my own coat and closed the door behind me.

**Boom! Is that a cliffhanger?! I think yes! Please review! :)**


	15. Saying All Of The Right Things

**Herrow! Here is the 15th chapter! MAJOR SHERLOLLY ALERT! I figured i've been dragging this sexual tension along so i gave you some sherlolly because hey, that's what you're here for isn't it? Enjoy and review and please follow me on Tumblr ~ **

Molly's POV

I exited the department store and stepped out onto the wet sidewalk. It was another crummy day and it had been raining all morning. I had bags of men's clothes on my good arm and a bag of contact lenses in my coat pocket. I bought a couple outfits for myself from my favorite store earlier and even a dress that I've had my eye on for months. A man came up to me and grabbed all of my bags off of my arm.

"Thank you."

He nodded his head to me and put my bags in the trunk and then opened the door for me. I thanked him again and slid into the car. To my surprise, after I was in, he slammed THE British Government's car.

The man slid into his own seat and started up the car. Every minute made me worry more and more. What if Sherlock left a note for me and flew away to some country? What if he didn't even leave a note? I looked out the window and nervously twirled my hair in my fingers.

I was relieved when we finally arrived twenty five minutes later at my flat. He opened my door and I immediately got a ten pound note out of my coat pocket. He shook his hand at me and started to speak but I cut him off.

"No. You are going to take this. You've driven me around for hours. It's the least I can do."

He saw my determination and after a moment he thanked me and pocketed the cash. The man took my bags out of the trunk and walked up to me.

"Do you need me to help you take these up to your flat?"

"No but thank you," I said and took the bags in my good arm. This man was working for Mycroft but I still felt scared and unsafe when he offered his help.

"Have a nice day."

"You too. Goodbye."

He gave me another nod and started to walk around the car. I turned around and started up the steps to my flat. The short elevator ride made my good arm hurt too. I was thankful when I got to the door to my apartment; it seemed like it took ages. I dropped my bags and dug around in my coat pocket for my keys. After a minute of rustling around in my large coat pocket I finally found them. I looked down at my keys and rolled my eyes at them and opened the door. I grabbed my bags and turned around and put my back to the door to open it. When I turned back around my heart nearly stopped when I saw a note stuck on the refrigerator with a magnet. I dropped all of the bags and ran as fast as I could to the fridge. I hit my side with the counter and forgot about the bruise that will form later. I looked up at the note and I wasn't sure if I should be relieved or worried. It read:

_Molly,_

_Be back soon._

_-SH_

I inwardly kicked myself for trusting that he'd be here. When is soon? An hour? A day? A week? Why couldn't he tell me where he was going? I sighed heavily and put my hand up to my face. I took out my cell phone and texted him.

_Where are you? –MH_

I waited a minute and then my text alert sounded.

_Stop. I'll explain soon. –SH_

Can't this man ever give me a straight answer? And there's that word again. Soon. I assumed he meant to stop texting him so I put my phone in my pant pocket and shrugged my coat off. I curled up on the couch and switched on the telly. I really didn't pay attention to it and I got bored. Before I knew it I fell asleep. I was woken up by someone shaking my knee. I opened my eyes slowly and looked up at the person who woke me up. All sleepiness left me as I flung myself across the couch and wrapped my right arm around him. He was startled by the gesture but returned the hug. I let go and sat back down on my side of the couch with my legs crossed pretzel style.

"I looked away embarrassedly, "I'm sorry. That was a little dramatic."

"It's quite alright, Molly," He said and straightened out his now ruffled clothes.

I looked back up at him disappointedly, "You could have said where you were going. Or how long you were going to be gone."

"I know. I'm sorry."

I stared at him expectantly and he asked, "What?"

"Where were you, Sherlock?"

"Ah right. I had a meeting with Mycroft and then I picked up some things from Bart's."

"What did you two have a meeting about?"

"Mycroft has found a way for me to get on the inside and capture Sebastian Moran. I'll spare you the boring details. Plus I really don't feel like repeating things."

"Uh…thanks?"

"You're welcome. You aren't going to be as pleased with me when you look in your refrigerator though."

"What is it?"

He shrugged and motioned for me to look in the refrigerator. I got up hesitantly and slowly walked across the room and to the refrigerator. I opened it slowly and found eyes staring back at me. I was startled at first but I've seen worse. I looked back at Sherlock, "Why is there a bloody head in my refrigerator?"

He smiled back at me and continued watching the telly, "You almost got me caught, you know? When you sent me that text. I was at Bart's hiding in a storage closet to wait for the coast to be clear. The text alert sounded and I was almost had."

I rolled my eyes at him and stomped over to the living room and stood right in front of his view. He struggled to see past me and kept switching to different ends of the couch or tried to peer over my shoulder.

"Molly. Could you step aside please?"

"No."

"Why not?"

I sighed heavily and said, "Sherlock Holmes. If you put another head in my refrigerator… well let's just say the next head will be yours. You know that I can kill you in a way that even your brother couldn't connect back to me. You can put ears, fingers, noses, eyes, hands, feet and all of those other things, but you will not put heads, legs or arms in my fridge. Are we clear?"

He sat there looking at me with amusement and then he asked, "What about brains or other organs?"

"I guess."

He laughed at me and said, "I'll keep the body parts to a minimum."

"Thank you," I said and flopped onto the couch next to him.

He looked over at me confusedly, "Why are you sleeping in the middle of the day?"

I averted my eyes from the telly and looked back up at him, "I haven't been sleeping too much during the night. It's still hard to sleep even though my nightmares have stopped. Thanks to you," I said and smiled up at him. It was a weird thing to say but it was the truth.

He smiled back down at me and said, "Happy to help."

With those words he made my stomach flip flop and the Sherlock Syndrome came back again. Butterflies flew around in my stomach and for the first time, I wondered if he ever thought about our kiss or if he chose to remember it.

He looked back at the telly and gave out a small laugh.

"What's so funny?"

His eyes lingered on the telly for a couple seconds and then he looked back down at me, "He's not the father. It's the said father's best friend."

"How on earth do you know that?"

"The mother of the child has been giving the best friend small glances or stares. Did you not look at the said father's shirt collar?"

I looked back at the telly and then back to him, "What about it?"

He rolled his eyes at me and continued watching the show, "Isn't it obvious?"

"Only for you, Sherlock."

I brought my knees up to my chin and laid back into the couch. I crossed my arms in front of me and tried to find out how Sherlock had figured that out. I rolled my eyes and I gave up after a minute. I stared at him as he looked on to the telly with amusement.

"Molly, why are you staring at me?"

I snapped back into reality and looked away from him, "Sorry it's just… you're so amazingly brilliant. You just astound me and confuse me at the same time. It's fantastic. You're fantastic."

He turned to me and laughed, "Thank you."

"Why is that funny?"

"Oh, no," he said waving his hand at me, "I appreciate the compliment but that's not what people normally say."

"What do people normally say?"

"Piss off."

"That's horrible!" I said with a laugh.

He laughed with me and continued, "Then there are people like John, Mrs. Hudson, and Lestrade. People who see past all of my arrogance and cruelty and who look at the good things I do. It may be on the shorter end but it's nice to find people who understand why I'm like this and they deal with it day after day. People like you."

I smiled up at him and the Sherlock Syndrome had never gone away. Now it felt like my heart was going to burst right out of my chest. I could feel everything I wanted to tell him on the tip of my tongue. I could spill out everything right here and now but there's no telling how it would end. He doesn't feel the same way and he never will so why not? But if I do this I may lose him forever. It was a chance I was willing to take. I curled myself closer into a ball, wrapping my arms around my legs. I took a deep breath and looked back up at him.

He was looking down at me with a concerned look on his face and asked, "I'm sorry if I made you upset."

"No, no. All of that was a lovely thing to say it's just… Sherlock. I've wanted to tell you something for a long time and I'm not sure why I'm saying it now but-"

He looked away and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He knew what was coming and he didn't want to hear it.

I immediately shot up and forgot about all of the confidence I just had.

"Uh, nevermind. It was dumb anyways."

I started to walk across the living room to the kitchen but Sherlock grabbed my wrist and stopped me in my place.

"Molly please. Sit back down. I need to talk to you about something too."

He tugged me lightly over to the couch and I sat down in my previous position. He turned his body towards me and waited for me to start. I tried to build up the confidence I had before but it just wasn't there. Before I even started my sentence I knew I was going to stutter. I sighed heavily and looked at him in the eye again. I couldn't say it to his face so I looked down again and started, "Sherlock ever since…I met you two years ago I thought you were such a brilliant and amazing man. People tell me I'm stupid for trying to even ask…you out because apparently you don't have a heart but I know you do. That's why I've been t-trying to get your attention. Like when I asked you if you wanted to have coffee. I meant a date Sherlock. I'm sure you knew where I was headed and just avoided the situation all together. I was obviously trying to impress you at the Christmas party with those god awful heels and that dress."

I stopped for a moment and caught my breath. I could see out of the corner of my eye that his expression hadn't changed. I sighed again and continued, "You've probably known all of this since day one and I know this is boring you so I'll just cut to the chase. I really… lo…like you Sherlock. I know you'll never feel the same way but-"

"I never said I was bored and I never said I didn't feel the same way. Plus you lied just now."

What are you-"

"You don't like me. You love me. Molly, you have to understand that yes I have a heart, but I have no idea how to use it. The only thing I know about love is the definition. The rest is a complete mystery to me."

He looked away and closed his eyes tightly. He looked like he was trying to muster up courage. He sighed and opened his eyes again. He looked at me again and began rapid fire as if it was one of his deductions, "Lately I think I've been feeling the same towards you. Not love but care. I care about you a lot and I don't know why. Don't take that the wrong way. I've cared about people before but I've never cared this much about a person. I've cared about John but I obviously haven't felt things for him like I have with you. I really wish that there was something that could stop me from feeling like this but at the same time I don't want it to stop. I really truly like you too Molly. You're intelligent and brave and I never really meant all of those mean things about your appearance. You're absolutely beautiful especially when your hairs an absolute mess and you don't have any makeup on," he said with a laugh, "I know you've been wondering if I thought about our kiss. I…have. A lot. I've kissed a woman before but I've never kissed a woman like you and it never made me feel like I wanted more."

He looked away and said, "Dear god. I'm turning into a blathering fool," he said and laughed nervously.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat again.

"No, Sherlock," I said and grabbed his hand, "You said all of the right things."

He put his other hand in his face and shook it furiously. At first I thought he was mad but he removed his hand from his face and gave out a small laugh. He leaned in closer to me and I decided to not let him close the space any further. I flung myself in his arms and pushed his lips onto mine. I wrapped my arm around his neck and he put his hand onto my check that sent a chill through my skin. I was practically sitting on top of him but I didn't care and he seemed to be fine with it. I couldn't get over the fact that I was kissing Sherlock Holmes and he just confessed his…care for me. I didn't care that I would probably never hear the words "I love you" out of his mouth. Right now, all I care about his lips on mine and to finally know that he cares about me. I couldn't help but notice how perfect his lips fit on mine.

I pulled away from him and asked, "Didn't you say that you haven't kissed a whole lot of women before?"

"Not a whole lot but yes. What's your point?"

"Then why are you so good at it."

"It's all just science."

He pushed my hair behind my ear and lowered his lips down to mine again. I giggled as he kissed me and ran my hand threw his hair.

He was the one that pulled away a minute later.

"Molly Hooper, would you do me the honor of going on a date with me?"

"Of course, Sherlock Holmes. Wherever shall we go?"

"Why did you ask like that?"

"Because when men ask women out on dates they just ask 'Will you go on a date with me?' I thought we were just being formal but now I see you were just being polite. Sorry. Where are we going on this date?"

He looked away with a contemplating look on his face. His eyes went wide and his gaze darted back to me, "I have the perfect plan. We stay in and I cook you dinner."

"Can you cook?"

"I've never really tried before but it will just be like a new experiment."

"Uh no. How about we cook together?"

"Well that's not very romantic on my end but I guess it's a deal."

"Sherlock Holmes. Romantic? I never!" I said dramatically.

"I can choose to be if I want to. What else is romantic? I have hardly any experience in this."

"Candles are romantic. And flowers."

"Excellent. Are picnics romantic?"

"Sure."

"Great. We'll have a candlelit picnic dinner right there," he said and pointed at an open spot on the carpet.

"On the floor?"

"I'll lay a blanket down. Is eating on the floor not romantic?"

I tugged on his shirt collar and gave him a quick peck on the lips and said, "That sounds perfect."

**BOOM! You people love me now don't you? Please review and stay with my story! :)**


	16. You Make Me Smile

**Heyo! Here is the 16th chapter! I've lost one of my most loyal followers :( Her username was amirizar2003 and one day her account was just cleared and all of her stories are gone. On that sad note please enjoy and review!**

Sherlock's POV

I thanked the young female cashier and walked out onto the sidewalk. It was nearly seven o'clock and I still needed to pick out flowers for Molly. I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing. Molly said that candles are romantic but never specified how many so I decided to buy a hundred. I assumed it was romantic because the young cashier commented that she was a lucky girl because of how much effort I was putting into it. I thanked her but said that I was the one in fact that was lucky.

I put the heavy bag in the waiting car and told Mycroft's driver to wait. I pushed a stray curl under the black fedora and caught a glimpse of myself as I walked towards a flower stand. I hardly recognized myself. All of my hair was tucked away, my eyes were a dull green compared to my piercing blue ones, and I sported a ridiculous white shirt, grey vest, and dark slacks. I looked like I could have been in a boy band in a previous life.

I continued walking on and stopped in front of the flower stand. There were so many different flowers and I had no idea what Molly's favorite flower was. I was about to ask the elderly woman behind the stand but a flower had caught my eye. It stood out from all of the others and it was perfect for Molly. I picked up a dozen pink calla lilies and paid for them with Mycroft's special credit card. She wrapped them up in white wrapping and handed them over to me. Her arthritic hands gave her a hard time but she had wrapped the flowers up with such a skill that I could tell she was in this business for a long time. She wore a wedding band around her neck that was too large for her finger so she must be widowed.

The feeling of deducing someone made me feel somewhat better about all that's happened. I haven't deduced anyone for a week ever since Molly was in the hospital. Her doctor was sleeping with one of the nurses and was married to another doctor at the same time. Did I mention that nurse is a man? I would try to deduce something about Molly but like I said before, she's a mystery. A case I can't close. For a split moment I had recalled having the same problem when I couldn't deduce anything about Irene Adler. I had some sort of feelings for her but those are long gone now. She was manipulative and I despised her in the end. She could never be as amazing, intelligent, and loyal as Molly.

I thanked the old woman and started heading back to the car. I spotted a familiar face and tried to keep my cool and not make a scene. I pretended like I forgot where I was going and turned around and crossed the street. I knew my disguise is bulletproof to ordinary people, but I knew that John could look at me for a second and see past it. Once I was standing on the sidewalk with other busying people I turned around and searched for John. I spotted him and my chest tightened as I saw the sight of my best friend. His hands were in his pockets and he had his head down. He glanced up at the darkening sky and stopped in his tracks. He smiled weakly as he admired the stars for a minute and before I knew it, he disappeared around the corner.

I sighed heavily and walked slowly back across the street. I opened the car door and slid in with a huff. I couldn't believe how John was getting on. I told the driver Molly's address and my thoughts returned back to Molly. I still don't know why I had told her all of my thoughts and feelings. They were all true but I wasn't planning on sharing them anytime soon. I was hoping that they would go away but then I realized I didn't want that. The only thing I want right now is her. I immediately got nervous about tonight. What if I mess things up or say the wrong thing? What if I don't compliment her enough? All of the worst scenarios raced through my mind but then I remember something. I remembered who Molly is. She won't be mad at me for anything. She knows that she can't expect a lot from me because of my lack of experience in this area.

_Sherlock, stop overanalyzing this. It's just a date, _I told myself.

The car stopped and I grabbed my bags and got out. I thanked the driver and walked up the steps to Molly's flat. I hid the flowers in the bag of candles as the elevator rose up to Molly's floor. A couple of seconds later the doors opened and I walked a short way down the hallway and knocked on Molly's door. I didn't try for the doorknob because I knew she was still scared. If only she knew I would die before I let Moriarty put another finger on her.

I heard familiar footsteps coming towards the door, a pause, and then Molly opened the door. I smiled down at her and held the bag behind my back. I walked in and faced her so she couldn't see what I had bought.

"That's a big bag, Sherlock. What did you get so much of?"

"That will be revealed later," I said and grabbed my coat off the hook. I set the bag down and laid my coat over it so she couldn't see what was inside.

"Oh, come on Sherlock. Let me see."

She walked towards me and tried getting around me but I held my arms out and didn't let her pass. She tried ducking under my arm but I quickly picked her up around her waist and walked off with her over my shoulder. She laughed and slapped my back with her good arm.

"No! Sherlock put me down!" she said still giggling and flailing her legs around.

I walked over to the kitchen and set her down on the counter. She continued laughing and I smiled up at her and laughed too.

"What should we make for dinner?" I asked.

She stopped laughing after a couple of seconds and looked down at me with a giant smile on her face, "I thought we could have traditional pasta. It's really all I have to make right now. I need to go to Tesco's soon."

"Sounds good. Shall we get started?"

She nodded to me and put her hands on my shoulders and jumped down off of the counter. I took her hands off of my shoulders and into mine and twirled her around in the small kitchen space and switched places with her. I had looked in all of her cupboards and familiarized myself with where things were. She giggled again and grabbed the pasta sauce and two pans out of a lower cupboard and I reached up and grabbed a box of linguine out of the cupboard above the stove.

We both prepared the different aspects of the recipe and stood next to each other as she stirred the pasta sauce and I occasionally stirred my linguine. I unconsciously put my arm around her waist and I saw and her cheeks almost matched the pasta sauce. I gripped her a bit tighter and she looked up at me and laughed. We both stood there looking at each other and after a minute, I was distracted by my linguine bubbling over. I released her and took the overflowing pan off the stove and put it on a hot pad where it could bubble down. I turned off my burner and I saw Molly put her hand up to her mouth. I looked over at her and she laughed at my ridiculous cooking skills. I put on a serious face and she stopped laughing. She had a confused look on her face and didn't understand why I was serious all of a sudden. A small smile formed on my lips and I nodded my head in the direction of the stove. She looked over and found her own pasta sauce almost spilling over. She quickly took it off the stove and put it on a hot pad just like I did. She turned around and turned the burner off and then turned back around with an embarrassed look on her face.

"It's alright, Molly," I said with a laugh.

She smiled up at me and went to grab plates before I stopped her.

"I'll get the plates. You should change into your new dress."

Her eyes widened as she heard my suggestion and she looked away and blushed, "Oh no Sherlock. That's not-"

"Molly you'll look absolutely amazing in it. It will give me time to set up. Don't come out of your room until I come for you. Alright?"

She blushed even more and without looking into my eyes, she nodded and went to her room to change.

I went into hyper drive as I quickly but neatly plated the food and set down two forks on the counter. I ran into the living room and laid a blanket down on the ground. I took the flowers out of the bag and set them down on the counter and started unpacking all of the candles. I put them on the table, counter, and other random spots around the room. I grabbed her lighter out of the drawer in the kitchen and ran around furiously lighting them as fast as I could. I shut off all of the lights and inspected my work. I quickly realized that I didn't put any candles near the most important part of the room. I grabbed some extra candles out of the bag and placed them around the blanket in safe places where they couldn't be knocked over.

I glanced over my work again and nodded approvingly. I took off my fedora and ridiculous vest and grabbed the bouquet of pink calla lilies. I tucked my scarf in my back pocket as I walked over to her door. I stopped and sighed heavily before I knocked on her door.

"Come in."

I turned the doorknob and strode in. I was taken aback at what I saw. Molly was in a light pink dress that fell just above her knees. It had a high neckline and short sleeves. A thin white belt was just above her waist. I set the flowers onto the bed and walked up to her. I put her hands in mine and stepped back taking in how beautiful she looked. She smiled at me expectantly and I didn't notice because I was still staring at her. I looked back up to her face and I was glad that she didn't put on a lot of makeup. She wore a shade of pink that matched her dress on her lips and a small touch of eye liner. I let myself give in and I dropped her hands and put mine on her waist. I pushed her closer to me and I gently lowered my lips onto hers. She returned the kiss and put her hand on my chest. She slowly shifted her hand upwards and ran her hand through my hair. I took one hand off of her waist and caressed her check as I moved my other hand to the small of her back. After a minute I finally let my lips part with hers but I didn't change my position and neither did she.

"I would love to do this all day, believe me, but we wouldn't want the pasta to get cold now, would we?"

She sighed dramatically and nodded her head. I laughed at her and released her for just a moment and grabbed the flowers off of the bed. Her eyes lit up at the sight of them and I thought she might have started to cry.

"Oh Sherlock. How did you know?"

"Know what?"

"That these are my favorite flowers?"

"I didn't. They just reminded me of you."

She opened her mouth slightly in amazement and smiled down at the flowers and then up at me. She got on her tip toes in her bare feet and planted a quick kiss on my lips.

"Thank you."

"No. Thank you," I said and planted the same kind of kiss on her lips.

"You look absolutely amazing and this dress suits you much better than that other one. You don't have to try to impress me because you astonish me every day."

She blushed and looked away. I smiled at how completely adorable it is when she does that. I took the bouquet out of her hand and joined hands with her. My hands immediately stopped shaking and I calmed down.

"Are you nervous?" I asked.

"To tell the truth, not really. Are you?"

"Not anymore." I said and smiled.

I almost forgot about everything that waited behind that door and I stopped her before she started walking towards the door.

"Wait!" I said and blocked the door.

"What's wrong?"

"You have to close your eyes."

I dropped her hand and handed the flowers back to her. I took my scarf out of my back pocket and wrapped it carefully around her head so I didn't mess up her hair. I tightened it slightly hoping it didn't hurt her still red eye or any of her fading bruises. I was relieved when I didn't hear a hiss of pain but a short giggle escape her mouth. I smiled at the sound and walked back around in front of her and grabbed the flowers out of her hand.

"Can you see anything?"

"Nope."

"So you can't see me dancing right now?"

"You're what?"

She motion to lift the scarf from her view but I caught her hand and said, "No. I was just kidding."

She laughed and squezzed my hand. I opened the door and led her outside. I closed the door behind me and moved my hand to her waist so she didn't start walking off and trip over a candle.

I stood behind her and whispered in her ear, "You can take your blindfold off now."

**Dawwwww! Cute kind of filler! Please review because I would really appreciate if you took just a minute to give me your opinion! Please review! :)**


	17. Keeping Each Other Warm

**Ello, lovlies! Sorry it took so long for this chapter, but it was very hard to get everything right and i'm not even sure if it is right haha! The title kinda sounds sexual but it's not lol! I just finished my first week of school (grr!) so I won't update as often i'm afraid. Sorry! Here is the 17th chapter and props goes out to xXKatnissXx for being my 50th reviewer-er! Lol enjoy and review please! :) **

Molly's POV

"You can take your blindfold off now."

Butterflies were dancing around in my stomach and I couldn't contain my excitement any more. I slowly lifted my hand to the scarf and untied it. I held the scarf in my hand but for some reason I still kept my eyes closed. I was worried that if I opened my eyes, all of this would go away. I would just wake up in that chair and none of this would ever happen. It would just a dream that would turn into a nightmare. I slowly opened my eyes expecting the worse but I was relieved when I saw the most amazing thing I have ever seen.

Candles were scattered randomly around the room but they were put in all of the right places. I unconsciously threw the scarf back at Sherlock causing him to let go of me to catch it. I walked further into the kitchen and put my hand up to my mouth in complete astonishment as I took in everything around me. It was so perfect and romantic and no other man would go to the lengths of this for a first date. I felt tears welling up in my eyes and I turned to Sherlock not looking him in the eye. I knew how crying made him uncomfortable. I feared that he would see the tear that had started to run down my face. I turned back around quickly again and wiped the tear from my cheek.

"Should we eat?" I asked.

"I saw that."

"Saw what?" I asked nervously, facing him again.

"You started to cry. Perfectly understandable."

I looked away blushing my hand returning to my mouth.

He smiled back at me and saw that I thought my crying was ridiculous so he walked in front of me and motioned with his hand towards the living room. I made eye contact with him one more time and walked into the living room. I flopped onto the floor like a little girl and giggled softly. Inside, I was uncontrollably laughing and blushing. A grin had never once left my mouth and I tried to suppress it but I couldn't bring myself to let the curve of my lips falter. I looked down and straightened out my dress, playing with the small ruffles at the bottom. I looked up and tucked my hair behind my ear just in time to notice Sherlock walking over expertly holding two plates of pasta on one arm, a bottle of wine in the crook of his other arm, and two wine glasses in his hand. He obviously couldn't sit down on the ground while holding all of it so I went to reach up for my plate but he sat down skillfully across from me and set my plate in front of me. I was shocked at the swiftness of the move but snapped out of my amazement when Sherlock put down the two glasses and popped the cork off of the wine that I reserved for special occasions or in case I had a visitor. I guess it's a good thing that I don't have many friends now that I have a dead man living in my flat.

"Is it alright that we use this?"

I reverted my attention back to Sherlock and said, "Oh yes, yes. Of course."

He poured the red wine into both glasses and set the bottle down beside him. He gave me a glass and held his in his hand with a contemplating look on his face.

"What's wrong?"

"Aren't we supposed to do something with these?" he said motioning to his glass of wine.

"Drink from them…" I said confusedly.

"Of course yes but isn't there something you're supposed to do with the glasses?"

"A toast you mean?"

"Ah yes. Am I supposed to propose this toast?"

"The man usually does it yes, but people do that for formal events. You don't have-"

"Nonsense," he said cutting me off, "Let me think about something to say."

He put his back against the wall and looked away from me trying to figure out what would sound romantic.

"Sherlock, people propose toasts at dinner parties or weddings. This isn't neces-"

"It's not necessary but I want to so please raise your glass."

I knew I wasn't going to win this fight but at the same time, I didn't want to. He wanted to propose a toast and I thought he was being so romantic and kind. I dropped the subject and raised my glass as he told me to.

He smiled at the action and raised his glass in unison and thought for a few seconds before he spoke.

"To…us."

I expected him to dribble on and go off topic into some deduction or scientific but this is the topic of romance so I was pleased he didn't say something completely idiotic or rude. My thoughts hung on the words and it made my stomach flip flop again. Oh why does this man do these things to me?

I replied, "To us," and clinked my glass with his soundly. I watched him over my glass as I drank a small sip of my wine and I could tell something was wrong. There was a small nagging feeling inside of me that I got whenever I saw that small flicker of something in his eyes.

I set my glass down beside me and twirled the long pasta around on my fork.

"What's bothering you?" I said and lifted it carefully into my mouth. I wouldn't want to get anything on my face much less this new dress.

He set down his glass as well and twirled his pasta around on his plate, never raising it to his mouth. I expected that he wouldn't eat much.

"I saw John today."

Another bite was halfway to my mouth and I stopped it midair and looked back up at him.

"D-did he recognize you?"

"No. I went across the street before he had the chance. He probably wouldn't have looked up at me anyways but I couldn't take the risk. He looked so…sad and depressed and alone. It was awful. The way he looked of course." He added quickly.

"Poor man. I should pay him a visit to make sure he's all right. Should I?"

"You should at least wait until your arm has healed. Besides, you didn't even remember his name half of the time."

"Well the person that caused me to forget his name won't be there."

"Quite right." He said with a warm smile that made my toes curl and my heart race.

Our conversation went on for hours and all I knew was that it was well past midnight. We talked about our childhoods and I found out that Sherlock's parents weren't around much when he was a kid. He told me that he had gotten into drugs because he felt alone and bored all the time. He had gotten caught buying drugs by a certain off-duty detective inspector. Greg Lestrade. Lestrade had pitied him and was astonished at how Sherlock had known his wife was cheating on him. He told him that he knew he was just promoted to the title "Detective Inspector" about a week ago and he had already made an enemy in the police department. Greg recognized the keen instinct of someone who focuses on every detail and needed someone who wasn't completely out of their depths. He told Sherlock that if he stayed clean, he would let him know if he ever had any cases that he couldn't figure out. Sherlock told me that he agreed and was excited for some reason but told him that he would only stay clean if Lestrade didn't put it on his record or arrest him. Lestrade agreed and that's how his consulting career began. Sherlock asked me why I wanted to be a pathologist and I just responded with the boring, "I wanted to speak for the dead and make sure that they got justice they deserved for whatever had happened to them." He had just looked at me and smiled. I couldn't help but think that he looked so amazingly beautiful in the candlelight. His soft alabaster skin glowed in the low light and his eyes were like electricity. I unconsciously bit my lip for a second and I hadn't noticed that I was absolutely freezing until now. I held my legs up to my chest with my arm and ran my hand up and down my legs slowly trying to warm myself up.

"Are you cold?" Sherlock asked.

"Oh, no. I'm fine," I said and stopped.

"Come here."

"What for?" I asked nervously.

"Well you could either use that blanket on the couch or my body heat. I think you are smart enough to know which would work faster."

That's alright, Sher-"

"Molly, don't be silly. Come here."

After a few seconds I got up with a curt "alright" and made my way around the candles and dishes and I was about to sit down next to him but he spread his legs apart and put his hands on the floor beside him so I couldn't sit down. He looked at me flirtatiously and I stood there blushing. After a small roll of my eyes I sat between his legs my back to him. He unexpectantly pulled me closer to him and let me lean back onto his chest. He held my left hand lightly and made my heart race.

"You should get your heart rate under control Miss Hooper." He said almost purring his words.

I knew now that my cheeks must be a flaming red. I closed my eyes briefly and snuggled my head further into his chest.

"Is this working?"

"Much better than a blanket that's for sure."

I shifted and I was now sitting slightly sideways, my head in the crook of his neck and my good hand on his shoulder. He moved his hand that was holding mine to the small of my back and put his other hand in mine, the way he had done before. I smelled in the scent of Sherlock and I felt more comfortable wrapped up in his arms.

"There you go. Now you're relaxed."

A small smile played across my lips and I looked up at him. I realized why he was holding my hand like that and I held his hand the same way.

"It is you, Mr. Holmes, who should get _your_ heart rate under control."

"I wonder how you can help me do that." He said flirtatiously.

"I've got an idea."

"What is it then?"

"It's easier to show you than tell you."

"Don't let me stop you."

I laughed and let go of his hand. I yanked on the collar of his shirt, forcing him to bring his face closer to mine. I sat there in his arms looking into his eyes. His amazing, intense, electrifying eyes. Who would've known that I would be on a romantic date with Sherlock Holmes or in his arms for that matter? I smiled up at him and he returned it as he brushed his fingers over my cheek. I slowly moved my hand to the back of his neck and pushed his lips down to mine. He was shocked at the fact that I was the first one to kiss the other but after a few seconds, he kissed me back. I sunk into the sensuousness of his soft lips and his natural musky smell. Goosebumps formed over my skin as he ran his hand up my neck and through my hair.

"I don't think - this is - slowing down - my heart rate." He said in a breathy voice, in between kisses.

I laughed against his lips and said, "Are you-complaining?"

"Not at all."

"Then shut up."

He laughed against my lips now and moved his hand from hair down to my legs, swinging them over his leg and bringing his other knee up so I was practically sitting in his lap.

My head was spinning and I asked, "Sherlock. What are you doing?"

"Keeping you warm of course."

"Right."

After another minute, Sherlock pulled away, "Time to get some sleep."

"I'm not even tired," I said kissing him again.

"Yes you are."

"Oh, fine." I said with a pouty face.

I started to let go of him and stand up but he pushed himself off of the wall and carried me in his arms towards my bedroom.

"Sherlock I can see out of my eye now. I can walk on my own."

"Your point?" he asked with a warm smile.

He easily opened the door to my bedroom with one hand and held me in his arms with the other. He set me down carefully onto my bed and he stood there staring down at me. He gave me another warm smile and leaned down and kissed me on the forehead.

"Change into your nightclothes. I'm going to go clean up."

He closed the door behind him and I presumed that he was going to pick up the dishes and burn out the candles I giggled to myself and put my hand up to my mouth immediately afterwards. I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I felt that if I were to try to get up, my legs would fall out from under me because I felt so lightheaded. After a few stumbles I walked over to my dresser and grabbed my favorite nightclothes; purple tank and matching shorts, and closed the door behind me as I walked into the bathroom. After struggling a bit, I finally got out of my dress. The shorts were easy to put on but when I put my tank on, I forgot about my cuts on my arm and brushed the strap over it. I gave out a sharp hiss of pain and turned to the side to get a better look at it. I took the bandages off and stared at the haunting letters. They had started to heal and were hardly visible now but it still hurt. I smiled weakily at myself as my gaze returned upwards. I brushed my hand lightly across my face. I only had a couple of noticeable bruises showing and my eye was still slightly lower than the other. I looked a lot better than I did two weeks ago. I snapped back into reality as I heard Sherlock close the door to my bedroom. I ran my hand through my hair and opened the door. Sherlock was already lying in bed, his hands in a prayer like position under his chin and his eyes closed. I padded across the room and sat down and pulled the covers over me, careful not to wake him from his thoughts. I closed my eyes and a moment later I felt his warm hand around my waist and his breath in my ear.

"Goodnight, Molly."

I snuggled in closer to him and put my hand on top of his, "Goodnight, Sherlock."

**Boom! Ya'll love me even more now right? Tell me in a review if it was OOC or just how amazing you thought this was! :)**


	18. Defending Love

**Herrow once again! I've been frantically watching Doctor Who to try and catch up so I could watch the premiere yesterday but I didn't do it in time :( I am proud to say that I made my friend watch the first episode of Sherlock and she insisted on watching all of the rest that day. We were up all night haha! I cried during Reichenbach...again. She has watched all of season one like 9 times and she can't find links for the second season anywhere online. She is so hooked right now lol! Anyways here is the eighteenth chapter! Please enjoy!**

Sherlock's POV

_Approximately one month, three weeks, five days, eight hours, twenty-seven minutes, and forty-nine seconds later… _

I roll over onto Molly, pinning her arms down with my hands, breathing heavily and sweat running down my forehead.

"You're getting good at this."

"You're not so bad yourself." Molly said struggling to break free from my grasp.

I laughed tiredly and got off of her. I brushed myself off and extended my hand to her. She grabbed it and yanked herself up to a standing position, straightening herself and her clothes out.

"Be a bit careful with my arm, Sherlock," she said rubbing her hand over it, "It only healed two weeks ago. It's fine but it still hurts a bit."

"Sorry," I said wiping sweat off of my forehead with my shirt sleeve. Over the last two weeks, I've been teaching Molly how to use self-defense. She was hesitant at first. She doesn't like the idea of knowing how to hurt someone, even if that person intends to hurt her. We had a huge fight over it and she ignored me and the matter for two days. I eventually had enough of her childish behavior and forced her to listen to me. She had to learn or she could just as easily be taken away from me again. Poor choice of words on my part. She told me she was independent and her own person and that she most certainly didn't belong to me or anyone else for that matter. She said that she was free to make her own decisions and that learning something that could hurt someone else would be against her morals and everything she believed in. Bit of an overreaction. Always so stubborn. I told her in a calm and steady voice that I was only looking out for her safety. That she does belong to me and I belong to her. _"Isn't that what boyfriend and girlfriend mean, anyways?"_ I had told her. I have absolutely no idea if Molly is technically my girlfriend. What do you have to do to be one's boyfriend or girlfriend? She had called me her boyfriend before but hearing me call her my girlfriend had made her blush. _"Did you just call me your girlfriend?"_ She had asked. I had rolled my eyes at her for having to confirm something that I just said and nodded at her. She smiled and after a moment, she looked away with a contemplated look on her face; trying to make a decision. She finally looked back at me and sighed dramatically, _"Fine,"_ she agreed.

"How did I do?" She asked tightening her hairband and grabbing a towel off the counter, wiping away at her face.

"Relatively good."

"Relatively? That means I still need to improve on something. What is it?"

"You need to work on expecting your opponent's next move. You usually start fighting with the person and then predict what they are about to do but I've found a way to tell at the beginning. It's all about the way that person holds themselves. Where their feet are planted, their stance, and so on and so forth. There is also usually some sort of fault when they attack. An old wound that still hurts, a bum leg, a slower swing in one arm than the other. Those you can use to your advantage but remember that they have that same advantage too."

"How long have you been doing this?"

"Most of my life."

"Why?"

"Because… I wanted to defend myself."

"Did you?"

I smiled slightly at the memory of myself standing over Anderson, blood running down his broken nose.

"I did. Let's just say that they never messed with me again."

She laughed as she threw the towel back onto the counter and asked, "How do you expect me to get this so quickly?"

Because I've studied the different styles of fighting. I'm the perfect teacher and you're the perfect student. You know why?"

"Because you're a genius."

"True but I was talking about you being the perfect student because you are brilliant."

"Enough with the sweet talk, Holmes. You're just trying to distract me."

She put her arms up in a defensive position.

I waved my hand at her and said, "Enough of that for now. I need to show you some defensive if you are being held against your will."

She nodded her head, put her arms down, and gave me an uneasy smile.

"Molly. I'm not going to teach you how to attack someone or kill them. I'm teaching you self-defense. Why should someone get the drop on you and you aren't as prepared or skilled as them?"

"I know. I know."

"Good. Now the first thing you should know is that you should never expect your opponent to fight fair. That means you don't fight fair either. Understood?"

"Y-yeah…"

"We are going to run through some different situations. First we'll start with gunpoint. There's nothing you can do if the person is from a distance and it's incredibly stupid to try and hit away a gun if it's drawn to your head or your neck. Never try that. If you have a gun to your back, stay calm. Go along with it for a while. You then attempt to knock the gun out of their hands or grab it for yourself. Quickly whip around and with both hands, knock it out of their hands or try to get a hold of it. Make sure to step to the side in case during the struggle the gun were to go off. If it is knocked to the floor, more struggling will ensue so try to get a hold of the gun. Once you have the gun in your hand, get some distance between you and your attacker so they don't have the opportunity to do the same. With me so far?"

"Yes."

"Great. Now turn around."

She looked confused at first but after a couple of seconds, she turned her back to me slowly.

"This is if your attacker grabs you from behind," I said and walked up behind her. I put my hands around her wrists and held her tight to me.

"Are you sure you just don't want to hold me like this?"

"Very funny, Miss Hooper. What is your first instinct?"

"First of all, it's _Doctor_ Hooper. Anyways I'd probably…step on your feet."

I laughed at her and said, "That's one method, yes. I would suggest head-butting but your attacker would most likely be male and taller than you. The most effective thing to do now is to stand on one leg as you take the other one off of the ground and lace it around my leg. You would then bring your leg forward, causing your attacker to either stumble, fall, or loosen their grip on you. Try it now."

With somewhat impressive force, Molly laced her leg around mine and brought it forward. I was forced to let go of her and I stumbled backwards gripping the countertop for support.

"Excellent work, Molly. And you've said you don't have any experience in any style of fighting?"

"None."

"Kung Fu, Karate, Jujitsu, Taekwondo, Boxing, Street, Sword, Sparring, Fist, Savate, Kalarippayattu?"

"Like I said before. None."

"You're quite good at it. A natural as people would say. Now let's try a different situation. What would your first instinct be if I was unarmed and I had a firm grip on your wrist?" I said and grabbed her wrist.

"Try to get out of your grasp."

"Yes but how?"

"Pulling away as hard as I can."

"Ahh. That's where you're wrong. What you would want to do is push your elbow towards your attacker. Doing so would make it harder for your attacker to keep your wrist in their grasp and it will most likely cause your attacker to let go of you."

Without command she tried the move. She caught me off guard and easily slipped out of the hold.

"Good. When you're in this sort of situation you'll need to catch the attacker off guard. I am substantially stronger than you yet you were able to easily get away. Excellent. Let's hope you never have to use any of this. Correction. You _will_ never have to use this."

"You don't know that for sure."

"Yes I do. I'm never going to let this happen to you ever again. No matter what it takes. No one is ever going to hurt you again. Not while I'm alive."

"Sherlock-"

I don't know what I would do if you were to be taken again. I…care for you a lot."

Out of the corner of my eye I could see the corners of her mouth lower slowly when I said "care," and she almost immediately brought them back up again. She would tell me she loved me and I would always respond "I care for you." There was always that little flicker of sadness that went across her eyes when I didn't say that I loved her too. I called her on she told me it was fine and that it meant a lot coming from me. We have only been dating two months. How long do people wait until they say I love you? I don't love Molly. I know that. But I don't know what I feel for Molly. It's not love but it's much more than care. Stupid feelings. I went into my mind and reviewed my personal dictionary. Using the old definition that I used to look up before, I compared the definition of caring and love:

_Caring: An interpersonal process involving an emotional commitment to, and a willingness to act on behalf of, a person with whom one has a significant relationship._

_Love: implies a tense fondness or deep devotion and may apply to various relationships (family, friend, lover)_

Are they close enough? Do I love Molly? I tried to apply one of the three words to Molly but I couldn't put my finger on one. She wasn't family, she was more than a friend, but she was certainly not my lover. She told me that everything that she's been through and her previous relationship with Moriarty was a lot. She told me that she fully trusted me and while she would love to, _"You know,"_ that she needed some more time before she would be, _"ready." _I was somewhat grateful that she said that because I myself have never experienced sexual intercourse and I, truthfully, would probably be far too nervous.

I was woken up from my thoughts when Molly spoke again, "I'm going to take a shower. I've got that lunch date with John in an hour, remember?"

"Date?"

"Oh stop sounding like a jealous boyfriend. It's just lunch. I'm only going there to see how he's getting on. Are you jealous?" she asked with a mischievous grin.

Her insinuation caught me off guard and I quickly said, "No. Of course not. Don't be ridiculous, Molly. Me? Jealous? That's funny. You're funny. Why would you think I was jealous? Just wondering."

"Probably because you're acting like that."

I sighed dramatically and said, "Yes I guess I am jealous but only because I'm going to be so bored while you're gone. I'll have nothing to do."

"Tell you what," she said taking another step closer to me, "On my way home, I'll pick you up something from the lab. A nice little experiment. I'll be able to bring some more stuff home for you now that I have to go back to work tomorrow."

I sighed dramatically again and spat out, "Fine."

"Good. You should take a shower too," she said grabbing the towel on the counter and wiping off my face.

Once she was finished I asked, "Molly Hooper, are you implying that I take a shower with you?"

She punched me in the arm with an extremely shocked look on her face. After a few seconds she started laughing hysterically and shouted, "Of course not! Get your mind out of the gutter, Holmes!"

She walked away blushing and shaking her head at me. I laughed at her and waited to hear her bedroom door close and then her bathroom door. I called Mycroft and told him to bring a car around for Molly. I hung up before he could make any comments on our new relationship.

I walked into the living room and flopped down on the couch. Putting my hands in a prayer position, I entered my mind palace. I walked down the corridor and all of the pictures that used to be of dead bodies and new experiments were filled with pictures of Molly. I wonder if there were any other changes that she had made in my mind. I opened the door titled _My Scientific Theories and Discoveries_. I didn't notice anything significantly different until I heard the turning of a page somewhere to my right. No one has ever been in my mind palace before. I slowly turned my head and I was somewhat shocked at what I saw. Molly was snuggled up on a couch in the corner. Reading a book and twirling a piece of her hair on her finger. In every room she was reading, watching telly, or taking a nap. I tried to brush a piece of hair out of her face while she slept but once I touched her, her whole body started glitching. A hologram created by my mind. I was saddened by this and decided to leave. I started walking down the corridor and out of my mind palace but a picture stopped me in my tracks. I turned to it and it was a picture of Molly. She had a large menacing grin on her face and she still had a swollen eye and bruises on her face. I went back in my memory and remembered that was right after she stabbed Moriarty in the foot. I laughed at the smile that spread across her face, shook my head at the picture, and opened the door to leave closing it behind me.

My eyes shot open just in time to see Molly walking over to the couch.

She was startled by my sudden awakening and asked, "Sorry. Did I wake you?"

"No. I wasn't sleeping."

"Is there anything specific that you want me to get you at the lab?"

I shrugged, "No. Just surprise me."

Alright, then. I'll be off now," she said turning back around.

It felt weird asking but before she completely left the living room I asked, "Aren't you going to kiss me goodbye?"

"Do you want me to?" she said turning around and giving me a flirtatious smile.

"If I didn't would I ask?"

She rolled her eyes at me and walked over to the couch. She squatted down in front of me and I got up on one elbow and l caressed her face with my other hand as she put her lips onto mine in a long passionate kiss.

"I'm sorry Sherlock but I've got to go."

I huffed childishly and lay back down. She laughed at me as she walked away.

She called from the door, "See you in an hour or two, Sherlock."

"Come back as soon as you can or you may have some new holes in your walls." I acquired another gun from my homeless network.

"Sherlock, I swear to god-" she said walking away from the door and started walking towards the living room by the sound of her shoes scuffling across the floor.

"I was just joking Molly. Go before you're late."

She stopped in her tracks and turned back around towards the door. Before she closed the door she said, "Love you, Sherlock."

Before I knew what I was saying, I almost automatically responded, "I think I love you too, Molly."

Before she was able to hear me, Molly had already closed the door. She already expected that I wouldn't say "I love you" back.

**I know I'm evil. Sorry but I had to haha! Yes I purposely made it sound like they were having sex in the beginning. *pervy avatardsherlockian* I almost forgot to mention that the idea of Molly learning self-defense is from a fanfic I read called _"The Unstoppable Molly Hooper" by patemalah21_! Go check it out!Anyways, please review. The current reviews want more friends! ;) **


	19. A Gift and A Curse

**Ello! I'm a little ahead of my update cycle so here is the ninetenth chapter! I'm really tired right now so no long explanation of random stuff from me. Please Enjoy and review! :)**

Molly's POV

I pondered over what I thought I might have heard while I rode down the lift of my apartment building. Did Sherlock say, "I think I love you too, Molly."? I shook my head at the idea and stepped off of the lift and exited the lobby. That's not Sherlock's thing. It's not his area as he would say. He has a heart yes but he doesn't express his feelings. Especially saying something like I love you. I smiled weakly at my stupid assumptions and was interrupted from them as I was met with a familiar face on the sidewalk.

"Hello, miss."

"Oh. Hello," I said somewhat flustered by his sudden appearance.

"I am to be driving you around today."

"Yes of course. Thank you so much," I slid into the waiting open door and onto the seat.

"It's not a problem, miss," he said and closed the door after me.

As soon as I looked up I jumped at the sight of the person who sat across from me and who had managed to stay completely silent and unnoticed.

"Miss Hooper. How are things?"

I put my hand to my face to calm my racing heart and looked back up at the older Holmes brother, "You're just like your brother. Sneaking up on people and being as quiet as church mice. Bloody hell. You boys will be the death of me."

"Apologies. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine. Maybe not emotionally but most of my injuries are healed or gone away," I said rubbing my previously broken arm, "Oh and please call me Molly."

"That's good to hear, Molly."

"Thank you," I said shyly. I didn't even know he cared much about me. He must not have wanted to sound uncaring if he didn't ask.

"How about Sherlock? Has he shot a couple of bullets into your walls yet?"

"No, of course not," I chuckled nervously, "He is a pain to live with sometimes but he makes up for it."

I quickly realized that the way I worded my sentence could be taken the wrong way and I hurriedly waved my hand at Mycroft and said, "N-no not like that. I mean-"

"It's quite all right Miss- Molly. I understand. Sherlock's told me about your new …relationship."

"He has?" I asked anxiously. Sherlock told his brother about us?

"Well you know how he is. He didn't go into much detail of course. He has the idea in his head that I'll make fun of him for it. He does love to be dramatic."

I laughed briefly and nodded my head in agreement.

He continued, "Is Sherlock occupied with other things?"

The first thing that popped into my head was yes. He was occupied with me. I held back the fierce redness that threatening to spread across my cheeks.

"He's bored most of the time. I promised him some things from the morgue for him to do experiments on. It won't keep him occupied for long," I said with a nervous laugh.

"Yes of course," he said with an understanding nod and a smile, "Sherlock has been ignoring my calls and texts. I need you to give him this for me."

Mycroft put his umbrella, which had been in his hand the whole time to the side and opened up his briefcase. He handed over an inch thick file stamped in red with the word _Classified_ on it. It donned a giant rubber band wrapped around it to keep it's content from spilling out. I took it carefully out of his hand and set it on my lap. I looked down at in amazement. I was holding a classified file from the British Government.

I quickly snapped back into reality as Mycroft cleared his throat and spoke up, "It…of course… is for Sherlock's eyes only. You must understand."

"Yeah. Yes- yes of course," I said finally peeling my eyes off of it and setting it on the sit beside me.

"Thank you, Molly. You may leave it in the car while you are away. I think some people may get suspicious if you carry around that giant file around with you."

I smiled at him and said, "Thank you for providing me with protection while riding around London. It's much appreciated."

"It's not a problem. Now the driver is going to stop a couple of blocks down from the café you are to be spending time at with John. You will find the car here later as well."

I understood why and nodded. His timing was almost impeccable as the car came to a slow hault at the curb and I heard the driver open and close his door.

"Be careful with your words. We wouldn't want to have him get the wrong impression and grow suspicious of you," he added before my door opened and I stepped out.

The driver shut the door behind me and already started walking around the car before I could thank him. I shrugged and started walking towards the small café. I took my phone out of my pocket and checked the time. _2:05._ Damn. I quickened my pace, seeing as how I should have been there five minutes ago. I tightened my coat around my body as I quickly ran through a game plan. I have to act sad. Cry? Don't cry? Hold his hand if he seems to get more upset or if he cries. Assure him that he will get on with his life soon. Tell him you believe in Sherlock. _Believed._ Use past tense.

I nodded confidently to myself and opened the door to the café. It was a little busy and I had to crane my neck as I tried to look around. I spotted John sitting at a table near the back, his hands firmly holding his cup. He stared down at it as if he was completely cut off from the world and everything that was happening around him. I stopped at the counter and ordered a coffee and some biscuits.

After a minute I thanked the barista and headed towards John. By now the room was less crowded and he spotted me almost instantly. He smiled weakly up at me and stood as I approached the table. I set my coffee and biscuits on the table and looked back up at him.

I smiled back at John and we almost immediately both held out our arms to each other.

"Nice to see you, John," I said wrapping my arms around his neck.

"You too."

He enveloped me in his arms and we stood there in a tight embrace for longer than was necessary. I closed my eyes and admitted to myself that I needed a hug from him too. This meeting wasn't just to make him feel better but for me to feel better as well. I patted his back one last time and we both sat down on opposite ends of the small table.

"Sorry for being a bit late. I got caught up."

"It's alright."

"How have you been John?"

He shrugged, "I don't know. I'm just trying to take it one day at a time. What about you?" he said returning his gaze to me from where it previously fell on his cup.

"It's been hard," I lied, "I'm just expecting him to come waltz into the morgue with his coat flowing behind him. Not a care in the world."

The real image I found myself making in my head was expecting him to waltz into my apartment with his coat flowing behind him. Never feeling his lips on mine, never feeling his strong arms protectively around me while I sleep, never seeing a twinkle in his eyes when he sees me or feeling his hand caress my face. The thought of never seeing Sherlock again brought tears to my eyes and John reached out and took a hold of my hand.

"Hey I know exactly how that feels."

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm such a mess," I said waving my hand at him and using my other hand to wipe at my eyes.

"Molly. I didn't say that to make you feel guilty about feeling like that. I was just trying to tell you that you aren't alone."

"I know. Thank you."

After a moment of making sure I had myself calm and collected, John let go of my hand and continued to sip his coffee.

"How's Mrs. Hudson? And Lestrade?"

"Mrs. Hudson tries to act strong around me. I just wish that people would act how they feel around me. It makes me feel weak and more broken than I already am. I can still hear Mrs. Hudson sniffle now and then and I catch her glancing at me with a sad look on her face sometimes. I know she means well. As for Lestrade all I know is that he's been fired."

I brought my cup back down to the table, "What?!"

"It's true. He was fired because he let Sherlock 'the fake detective' help him on cases. I'm surprised they didn't throw him in jail. People have all different crazy conspiracies that Sherlock has been creating crimes in the past just to make himself look smart and important. That's what he told me ya know. On the roof. I was the last one to talk to him. He wanted me to tell everyone that he was a fake and that he invented Moriarty. But I believed in Sherlock Holmes. I _still_ believe in Sherlock Holmes. I can't grasp the idea that he's dead. He wouldn't do that. He wouldn't kill himself just because people think he's a fake. He would never stop defending himself. He always had to get the last word."

John shook off his fuming anxiety and brought his gaze back down to the cup of coffee tightly held in his hands. He sighed to himself as he tried to calm down.

"John. Look at me."

He slowly looked back up at me, tears threatening to fall down his face. I set my coffee aside and reached across the table and held his hands firmly in mine.

"Sherlock is not a fake. He wasn't a fake and I know it. I believe in Sherlock Holmes. He must've known that you would never think he was a fake. He told you that for a reason. I don't know what that reason would have been but he wouldn't have said it if it didn't serve some kind of purpose. If that was the last conversation he ever had then he made sure it was with you and he made sure he told you he was a fake. This is Sherlock we're talking about. We may never figure out why he said that. But John…" I said hesitantly, "Sherlock is dead. I performed the autopsy myself. I'm sorry, John. I just want you to accept that, so you can try to continue your life in happiness and not in anger or sadness."

"I know. I'm just going to need a little bit more time."

"We all need a little bit more time. Don't try to force it. You'll move on eventually but you'll carry those memories around with you forever. It's a gift and a curse."

"Thanks, Molly. Really. Thank you. You're a great friend."

"Anytime, John."

We sat for another couple of minutes before we both ate our share of biscuits and drank our cups dry. I found myself standing outside, John helping me into his coat and putting on his own.

"Thanks," I said wrapping my coat around myself even tighter.

He nodded to me and smiled. After a short awkward moment. I pulled him into another hug. I rubbed on his back a few times before I pulled away and planted a chaste and quick kiss on his cheek.

"Take care of yourself, John," I said waving my hand at him as I walked down the sidewalk and back to the car.

"You too," he shouted back.

**BOOM! No cliffhanger so it's more like ...boom... yeah. That sounds better. Please review! The review button is getting lonely...**


	20. Two Simple Words

**Hey guys! This is a little-well a lot-shorter than other chapters but this is way beyond schedule and I was just feeling my feely feels. You know those feelings? Those feely feels? Those feely feels that feel...feely? Anyways this was just kinda a filler a bit so yeah. Enjoy and please review! :)**

Sherlock's POV

Molly had been gone two hours. I thought I was going insane. I tried to straighten out some shelves in my mind palace but I kept finding myself wandering in the hallway with nothing to do. I couldn't stop thinking about Molly being all alone on the streets right now. I would've followed her but that would be too risky. I resorted to planting a bug on the lapel of her coat. Not to her knowledge. I had heard everything. Molly was a great actress. I didn't expect her to cry but I also didn't expect John to almost cry as well. John. The bravery of the soldier. I never imagined that he would cry over me. Almost. I could tell by his voice that he was certainly depressed. He was probably seeing his therapist again. I wasn't surprised that Lestrade was fired because he had used my assistance. I felt somewhat…bad about it. I wouldn't say that Lestrade and I are close but I have a decent amount of respect for him. I made a mental note to make sure he got his job back when I return. With a raise. I can't imagine Sally as head detective inspector seeing as she would be the one to take his job if he was let go.

The horrible images of Sally being in charge ran through my mind and made me want to run away. With perfect timing, I was woken out of my mind palace anyways, to the sound of the front door opening and closing. My eyes darted open and I listened carefully to the sound of the person's shoes scuffling across the floor. Molly. She stopped to take off her shoes and coat and had already started walking into the living room. She set a large file on the coffee table in front of me and I sat up and made room for her to sit next to me.

"Hey Sherlock," she said giving me a weak smile.

She sat down next to me and let her head rest on my shoulder. I moved my arm wrapping it around her shoulders and she almost immediately snuggled closer to me, her head resting on my chest and my arm now wrapped around her waist.

"Are you alright? You are upset about something. What is it? Your eyes are a bit red and your eyelids are a bit puffy. Have you been crying? Why have you been crying?"

"You should have seen him. He had dark circles under his eyes and it looked like he hadn't had a proper night's sleep in a week. His eyes were also bloodshot and he's using his cane again. He looked a little bit thinner. Not like he was starving but like he was too broken to be able to make himself something much less eat it. It breaks my heart, Sherlock. It just…"

Her voice trailed off as she started to silently sob. She rested her hand on my opposite shoulder as I kissed her hair. I moved my hand from her waist to her back and slowly rubbed back and forth. After several minutes her sobs became nonexistent and she wiped at the tears that managed to fall down her cheek.

"I know everything."

"Yes and?" she asked with a scoff.

"No. I know everything that he said."

She slowly looked up at me with a confused look on her face, "What do you mean? You weren't even there."

"I planted a bug under the lapel of your coat. I hope you don't mind. I just wanted to hear him for myself. Hear what he had to say of course," I added quickly.

Somewhere deep down inside of me, I wanted to hear John's voice again. I would never say it out loud but it was the truth.

Molly giggled slightly before putting her hand back up to her mouth to silence it.

"What's so funny?"

"I know you planted a bug on my coat. I figured you would do as much and it really wasn't that hard to spot. Step up your game, Sherly."

"Don't call me Sherly."

"You don't like that, eh? Definitely using that more often," she said with a mischievous grin.

"Molly…" I said in a warning tone.

"Oh alright. Don't get your knickers in a twist. I won't call you Sherly."

"Promise?"

"Promise…but…there's only one way to seal a deal as serious as this."

"A…pinky promise?" I hesitantly guessed.

"No. Something much stronger than that. Something like this," she said with a flirtatious smile.

Molly ran her hand up the side of my shoulder and rested it on the back of my neck. She moved closer to me and pushed slightly on my neck bringing my lips down to hers, the taste of coffee roaming on her lips. I brought my hand up to her face tucking her hair away behind her ear and bringing my hand back down to rest on her cheek.

She set her hand on top of mine and entwined her fingers around my long skinny ones. She slowly pulled away leaving a kiss on the corner of my mouth.

"We need to get to work as soon as possible. I don't want to have to see John like that again."

"But-"

"Sherlock…"

"Fine."

I leaned forward and grabbed the gigantic file on the coffee table. Molly scooted away from me and sat at the other end of the couch.

"What's wrong?"

"Mycroft said I'm not supposed to look at that. 'Your eyes only' he said."

I was disgusted by the mere mentioning of my brother's name but stopped rolling my eyes as I remembered everything he's helped me with. He is going to hold this over me til the day he dies.

I shook away my thoughts and returned my gaze to the file. I shed it of the large rubber band and opened it. I traced my finger down the page for a couple of seconds before I flipped to the next page and started at the top again. I occasionally stopped to glance at a picture and whenever I did so I noticed Molly would shift in her seat. Curiosity was getting the best of her and I decided that I got the gist of it. Closing the file and placing it back on the coffee table I decided to enter my mind palace to try to figure out a logical plan that would be most effective. Realizing that the couch was also being used by Molly I shrugged and laid down anyways. I placed my head on Molly's lap and put my hands under my chin in a prayer like position and closed my eyes. While my head had made contact with her legs, Molly let out a shriek of astonishment.

"S-sorry Sherlock. Do you want me to move?"

"No do you want me to move?" I asked looking up at her with one eye closed and the other eye open.

"No."

"Settled then."

I closed my eyes again and shifted a bit to get comfortable. I crossed my legs that dangled over the couch and found that it was quite comfortable. I also came to the conclusion that it was easier to enter and exit my mind palace in this position. I could feel a hand in my hair stroking the curls and messaging my scalp. It made my heart rate come to a steady pace as I became more focused and ready to think of a plan. I was in complete bliss when I was interrupted by Molly's question.

"Sherlock?"

I merely hummed in response hoping that we wouldn't have a tedious conversation seeing that I was as focused as I've ever been in years.

"What's in that folder? Who's that folder about?"

Two simple words. Who would've known that two words would make someone who knew his name and what he does scared? Make someone want to move to another country or continent just to feel safe? Two. Simple. Words.

"Sebastian Moran."

**BOOM! I'd say that's a cliffhanger! Is it? Do you think it's a cliffhanger? Because I think it's a cliffhanger. What do you think? Because that's what I think. Haha I'm just messing with ya a bit ;) Please review! The review button is having a BBQ...**


	21. Saying Love and Saving Lives

**Hullo! I know I'm such an awful person for making you guys wait so long for this! I had major writer's block and I just got Supernatural season 7 on DVD so I've been watching that nonstop seeing as I have never seen season 7. Castiel *sigh*. Bobby *cries*. Anyways here is the 21st chapter! Whoop whoop! Enjoy! :D**

Molly's POV

I woke up to sunlight glaring down on my face and stinging my tired eyes. I rubbed absently at them and rolled over to face the other way hoping to find what I was searching for. I was greeted with an empty spot on my bed, the covers lay open. I rolled my eyes at how ridiculously early Sherlock must get up at when he actually sleeps and got out of bed. I straightened out my tank top pulling the strap over my shoulder again and ran a hand over my ridiculous bedhead. Walking into the kitchen I found a half drunken cup of coffee and Sherlock was nowhere in sight. Panic washed over me and I quickly ran into the living room. He's gone. I ran back into the kitchen looking for some sign of where he could possibly be. I inwardly kicked myself as I took way too much time trying to find a note that was directly in the center of the counter. I took the note in my hands and read:

_Molly,_

_I've gone to follow up on some enquiries about Sebastian Moran. Much too dangerous for you I'm afraid. Don't be mad. I'll be back as soon as I can. You're going to be mad at me anyways aren't you? Seeing as you'll be mad at me I have something to say that I believe you may not have heard. Now this is hard to say even thought I know it's true. I love you. I love you Molly Hooper and I'm not just saying it because it's you want to hear. I'm saying it because I mean it. If I don't say I love you back in the future please feel the need to slap me upside the head._

_-SH_

My heart leapt with joy as I held the note to my chest. I probably looked ridiculous right now and I'm glad he told me in a note so he didn't see the state I was in. I sat down hard on the kitchen chair, my eyes welling up with tears that started to fall. It is what I wanted to hear but he's saying because he wants to. Because he feels like it. Because he means it. In all of my life I never knew this would happen. I would fantasize about it but he would always seem to tell me in person when I pictured it. I read the note again hoping that it would sound even more real and fantastic than it had. Before I could actually get to the good part my eyes stopped on the word "dangerous." The note didn't say anything about not being able to text him so I took my phone out of my coat that draped over the chair next to me and fired a text to him.

_Don't get hurt. –MH_

A text came in a few minutes later.

_I won't. –SH_

How completely Sherlock of him to say that?

_Promise? –MH_

This text came in earlier than the last one.

_Promise. So I guess you read my note. –SH_

I rolled my eyes at him much like he would have and replied.

_Yeah. –MH_

It seemed as though he was hesitant to text back and just before I was about to put my phone away into my coat a text came in from him.

_Did you read all of it? –SH_

I shook my head at him and texted him back.

_Of course I did. –MH_

His response came in a matter of seconds.

_What do you have to say about that? –SH _

A large smile spread across my face as I sent out the text anxiously waiting for a reply.

_That I love you. What do you have to say about that? –MH_

The text alert noise rang out seconds later and I looked down at the small screen with hope.

_That I love you too. –SH_

Sherlock's POV

I smiled and let out a sigh of relief pocketing my phone and straightening out my ridiculous and idiotic fedora. I hate being in disguise. I got up from the bench I was sitting at and grabbed a paper paying for it and sitting back down. The fact that Molly knew I loved her was very much for the better. When she hadn't heard me the first time a feeling of sadness filled up my chest, it tightening and my breath hitched. I was mad at first but it was understandable. She was right to think that I wouldn't say it back. I myself didn't think I would admit it out loud much less out loud (or in a text) to Molly. It was true though. I knew the definition of love but I never knew how it made oneself feel, but I began to notice something. My chest would tighten when I saw her. My breath would hitch and I would find myself taking in gulps of air that I didn't need. I would blush when she complimented me but I willed myself to make the redness that rose on my pale face to go away within an instance. I had to admit. Molly changed me for the better and I liked how it made me feel now.

It was only now that I looked down at the paper seeing the headline in large print.

SUICIDE OF FAKE GENIUS

Do the editors have nothing better to write about? It's been over two months but I could still spot people taking interest in the story on the front page. I wasn't sure if I should be flattered or annoyed. Both I imagine. I set the paper aside knowing that whatever was written would just make me angry. I had just set it aside as I saw a man across the street. John. I wasn't surprised I would find him here even though I wasn't particularly looking for him. We were only a couple of blocks away from Baker Street. He didn't look as good as I had hoped. He even looked more defeated than Molly had described. I felt a pang of guilt travel throughout my chest. I've done this to him. I've made him depressed and lost and abandoned. I stood up unexpectantly. My body, my mind, my heart, wanting to walk over and tell him everything was all right and that I'm still alive. To stop the pain. John made his way across the street his head down barely even checking the street for oncoming vehicles but took a good enough look to see that no cars where coming towards him. I noticed out of the corner of my eye, a car coming fast through a red light not even yielding at the sight of John in the middle of the road. I immediately sprang into action. I don't care if he recognizes me now. Keeping myself a secret is not worth him dying because I couldn't risk it. I quickly looked both ways before I myself ran across the street to John. I put my hand on John's upper arm yanking him away and onto the sidewalk just in time to avoid the vehicle. We both fell to the ground, and John rubbed at a red mark that had already started to show on his head as he sat up. I quickly got on my feet and brushed myself off before holding out a hand to him. John grabbed my hand and I pulled him up. He let go of my hand and put his hand to his head again for a brief moment relieved to find that there was no blood.

While he was busy tending to himself I took a good look at him now that I was up close. He was wearing a jacket but it was just short enough to be able to see his wrists. I was relieved to find that there were no marks of cutting on his wrists. There are multiple places one could cut oneself but a person who was truly depressed and careless enough to almost get killed by a car wouldn't put much thought as to where they would make the incisions. I didn't think that John would have started cutting himself. Maybe just thinking that it was somehow a possibility was selfish of me. Why would someone cut themselves just because I wasn't in their life anymore? I inwardly yelled at myself for even feeling the need to check.

I cleared my head and finally spoke up, "Be more careful next time, mate," I said in my best attempt at a much thicker British accent than my natural one.

He nodded embarrassedly and looked up at me for the first time, looked away, and then look back at me with confusion, "Do I know you?"

"Not that I can remember."

I'm sorry you just look really familiar. You look like…" his voice trailed off and he shook his head, "Nevermind. Thanks. You saved my life."

He held out his hand and I shook it.

"Watch where you're going next time."

He seemed to still be baffled at the sight of me. I was metaphorically crossing my fingers, hoping that he didn't see through my disguise.

"Thanks again."

"Not a problem."

With that I gave him a friendly smile and walked past him going towards the location as to where I intended on meeting a certain someone today. I turned my head back to look at him one last time before I could see him for a while. I have to capture Moran and Thomas or John is just going to be even more careless than he is now. John turned the corner and out of sight, completely forgetting about where he was going to go. I myself turned down an alleyway. Now I know that my disguise is bulletproof. In my mind I believed that I was still taking a safe route through London just to be extra careful but now I knew that it was because it didn't feel right. Walking alone. It felt wrong. I didn't want to be seen without John or Molly by my side. It made me feel nervous but most of all sad. When I was alone I would stick to the alleys and shortcuts much like a shadow. Turning down another backstreet, I spotted my…acquaintance. I walked up to her noticing how her fitted parka and excess of cleavage clearly showed that she wasn't wearing anything under the heavy coat.

"Hello, Mr. Holmes."

"Woman."

**BOOM! Mini cliff! I bet some of you perverts out there thought that BOOM said BOOB! Don't be coy you little nasties...haha jk! The idea for John being a dumbass in this chapter was from _D_****_reaming-in-moonlight_ for being the 75th reviewer! I truly did really love her idea and it was fun to write. I wrote "write" as "right" the first time and I'm suppossed to have good grammerer because I'ma writer! **

**ANYWAYSPlease review and have lovely time at the review after party. I hear its totes(tots?) magotes(magoats?)...or however you say that...**


	22. The White Lotus

**Hullo! 22nd chapter, bitches! Haha jk. Here is another nugget of awesomeness from me. Please enjoy and review! :D**

Sherlock's POV

"Stop it," I said my voice dripping with disdain. The "Woman" had been trying to either hold my hand, grab my arse, or wrap her arm around mine the whole twenty minutes we have been walking. She had changed her appearance considerably seeing as she was thought to be dead as am I. Her hair was shorter stopping at the shoulders. It was a lighter shade of brown, slightly darker and curlier at the ends. She still though, donned her lips with her bright red lipstick and she still tried to seduce me on many occasions.

"You like it," she said reaching for my hand again. I caught her around the wrist and yanked at it forcing her face to be inches from mine.

She looked up into my eyes. At first I detected a hint of fear in her eyes but then they softened and she purred, "I knew you-"

"No. You don't. I don't like you. Never liked you. Sure you caught my attention but not in the way you think. I'm spoken for and I love her. I've tried to distant myself from you as much as possible but I need your help with this. It's very important and unfortunately I need your assistance. So please. Stop."

I let go of her wrist and walked on. I heard the clicking of her heels as she ran up to me trying to keep up with my fast pace.

"You're spoken for? What's her name?"

"None of your business."

"It's that mousy, little, pathetic, pathologist isn't it?" she said with a somewhat apologetic chuckle if there ever was such a thing.

"No," I said my nostrils flaring with anger.

"Yes it is. What's her name? Meghan Hopper is it?"

"Molly Hooper," I added with a hint of annoyance.

"Oh. Then why did you say no?"

"Because," I said coming to an abrupt halt, "You called her 'that mousy, little, pathetic, pathologist' and that's not what she is. She's brave and strong and never in her life has she been as pathetic as you."

A look of shock ran across her face and she looked like I… hurt her feelings. I sighed heavily and rolled my eyes as I tried to somehow tell her I'm sorry without really meaning it or saying it.

"I didn't-"

"Don't apologize. I thought it was kind of…sexy. The way you just snapped at me. Very sexy…" she said giving me a pleasingly up and down look.

"You're ridiculous."

"You're sexy. Even with that fedora," she said looking up towards my head.

I straightened my hat and rolled my eyes at her. She merely gave me a flirtatious wink and I walked on. Why in the world would I have to need the Woman's help? I knew why I had to but I wished it had been anyone else but her.

I was interrupted from my thoughts for the umpteenth time today when the Woman asked another question.

"You…_love_…her?"

"Yes I do. Do you have a problem with that?"

"No no. Of course not. It's just… you love someone. Did you ever think that that would happen?"

"I never imagined it occurring in my lifetime, no."

"Are you in love or did you just tell her because it's what she wants to hear? Assuming you told her that of course."

"I did tell her. A little over an hour ago. I did, in fact, mean it. I wouldn't say something I didn't mean that could potentially give someone the wrong impression or idea about me. This is, though, none of your business and I don't feel the need to explain myself to you or anybody for that matter besides Molly."

"Just making conversation. There's no need to get nasty. Well…I kinda like it."

"Now I know what you like."

"Oh look at that. You made a joke."

The corner of my mouth rose briefly in a small smirk as I stalked across the street following close behind the Woman.

"Here it is," she said turning around to be met with my questioning eyes.

"What do you mean?" I said looking around at the perfectly normal shops and apartment buildings around me.

"It's down there," she said nodding her head to the left.

I looked down the shabby alleyway. All I could see is a couple of dumpsters and a makeshift house out of a cardboard box. There was a large black door near the end of the alley_. _

"In there?" I asked pointing at the door.

She grabbed my arm bringing it back down to my side, "Yes, let's point at the secret dangerous meeting place of an assassin shall we?"

I rolled my eyes at her and she ignored it, asking me, "Do you have fifty pounds?"

"Yes, but-"

"Give it to me."

"No."

"I need fifty pounds and a pen to get in."

I sighed and got my wallet out, handing her the fifty pound note and a pen that I fished out of my coat pocket. She took both and walked behind me. She held the note on my back with one hand as she wrote something on it with the other. After a couple of seconds she handed the pen back to me.

"What did you write?"

She held the note in front of me. In the bottom left corner it read;

_Irene Adler _

"_The Woman" _

_Damaged._

"What does _damaged_ mean?"

"Anyone can write their name on a fifty and hand it over. You have to know the password. The first time I came here he explained that it's what gangsters used to do back in the 1900s. I imagine it turns a profit for him as well," she said with an understanding nod.

With that she strode, well with her it's more of a saunter, into the alleyway. I started walking after her before she turned back around.

"You can't come."

"Why?"

"Because you are most likely being watched by Moriarty and his men. He probably knows what kind of disguises you are using. If you walk in there," she said motioned to the door with my money, "You won't come out alive."

I sighed heavily and stalked back towards the sidewalk.

Almost out of ear-shot she said, "There you go you big child."

"I heard that," I yelled back to her without turning around.

I could almost hear her roll her eyes at me. I came to a stop at the end of the alleyway leaning up against the side of the building giving me a perfect vantage point to peer around the corner. She rapped on the door three times with her fist. It looked as if she purposely waiting a minute before she bent down and slid the fifty pound note under the door. Several minutes passed before the door opened and the Woman stepped inside. I sighed inwardly. There was action waiting for me inside and I had to wait on the curb like a bum. I became inpatient after ten minutes and almost gave into my boredom before the Woman came 'sauntering' down the alleyway. I noted that her lipstick was slightly smeared.

"What took you so bloody long?"

She gave me a wink and handed the small piece of paper in her hand to me. I took it and read it aloud:

_The White Lotus 11pm_

_-SM_

"Sebastian Moran. Is that the one you were just snogging with I presume?"

"Something like that," she gave me a mischievous grin.

"Are you his date for this certain evening?"

"You could put it like that. It's tomorrow night."

"Of course. Thank you for your help," I said pocketing the note, "Good day."

"Wait. I need somewhere to stay. Just for tonight."

"Why?"

"Kate kicked me out. I'll make it up to her tomorrow."

I was about to ask why she was removed from her residence but decided not to. It was probably because of their relationship and I didn't even want to know how on earth the Woman was going to make it up to her.

After a long debate between myself and what I thought Molly's reaction would be to having another thought-to-be-dead houseguest I finally gave in.

"Fine but you should be gone by morning."

Molly's POV

I had been waiting for nearly nine hours ever since I woke up this morning. I didn't have work today seeing that it was a Sunday. I couldn't go back to sleep so I was left to my own devices. It felt weird being alone in my flat. I did have Toby but it just isn't the same as the comfort that Sherlock gave me. Toby was being too moody lately anyways. I had made myself lunch and watched some telly before I turned it off and choose a book at random off of the shelf. It was the first book of the Twilight series that my cousin told me was the best book ever. I read the first chapter and had enough. This stupid book was not worth wasting hours of my life to read. I put the book back on the shelf and went over to the piano. I looked at the music sheets before I decided on a song and sat down. I placed the paper gingerly on the stand and got into a comfortable position. Just as I was about to play the old Beatles classic, I heard the front door of my flat open and close. I guess I'll have to play some other time. I heard the clicking of heels. Either Sherlock decided that it was a good idea to cross-dress or someone else was in my flat.

I was relieved when I heard the familiar low voice call out my name.

"Molly? Molly are you home?"

"I'm in here."

I stood up and started walking towards the main hallway but before I could, Sherlock flourished into the living room and met me halfway. He grinned at me for some unknown reason and took my face in his hands. Planting a firm kiss on my lips, he sighed heavily and brought his forehead down to mine.

"Sherlock are you okay?"

"I'm just glad to see you. We need to talk though. There's someone-"

"She already knows me. In quite an …intimate way."

Sherlock pulled away from me as he turned around revealing who the wearer was of the high heels I had heard.

My face flushed as I remembered who she was. Irene Adler. 'The Woman.' The woman Sherlock could recognize from…not her face. I had also read her file and yes, could recognize her the same way Sherlock could.

"Hello Miss Adler. What brings you here? Wait…how do you know about Sherlock's existence?"

"Oh you know us people who fake their deaths. We're a very close group of select people," she said sarcastically.

I laughed briefly before asking, "Not to be rude, but why are you here?"

"I need a place to stay for a night. Long story."

I was a bit taken aback by the suggestion but quickly recovered, "Uhh, I guess. That'll be fine. Yes. I don't have a guest bedroom, so you'll have to take the couch."

"Where will Sherlock sleep?" she asked with a knowing smirk.

"Sherlock sleeps in my bed. With me," I said looking up at him, trying not to blush.

Irene just smiled wider and sat down on the couch, folding her legs under her almost in a seductive manner.

"I would, though, require that you stay fully clothed for the remainder of the day," I said reminding myself of what Sherlock had told me about Irene and how she goes about with herself.

"Of course, darling," she said pulling her large coat closer to her body. Doing so didn't exactly help seeing as she must not have anything on under her coat. I averted my eyes and looked up at Sherlock again. He gave me an apologetic grin. I smiled back up at him and looked away before I quickly looked back, noticing something.

"Sherlock, when was the last time you slept?"

"A couple of days," he lied.

"Yeah, no. More like a week. You need to get some sleep. Now."

"Molly it's three in the afternoon. This is no time to sleep."

"Don't argue with me, Sherlock. Come on," I coaxed him to my bedroom by leading him away with my hand. I stopped at the stairs of the living room turning to Irene, "Umm, you can watch some telly or do something else."

"Got it," she said taking off her high heels.

I nodded awkwardly to her and continued walking towards my bedroom, Sherlock's hand still entwined with mine. As I flopped onto my side of the bed I realized how tired I myself really was. Sherlock laughed at me and finally took off that bloody fedora.

"What's so funny?" I asked, my voice muffled slightly by my pillow.

He pulled the covers out from under my body in one quick movement and laid them over me before he walked back around to his side of the bed. I barely notice the increased weight of him lying on the other side.

"You're just so adorable."

I laughed into my pillow and opened my eyes to be met with Sherlock's intense blue ones.

"I missed you today, Molly."

I smiled up at him and nuzzled closer to him, resting my head on his chest.

"I missed you too, Sherlock."

He kissed my hair and wrapped his arm around my waist.

"Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?"

I looked up at him and asked, "That you loved me? Did you mean it?"

"Of course I did, Molly," he said removing his hand from my waist. He propped himself up on his elbow and held my face in both of my hands. He kept the position as his eyes darting back and forth between mine like he was trying to find out why I doubted him.

"I've never felt like this for someone so it's safe to assume it must be love. I, Sherlock Holmes, love you, Molly Hooper."

"I-"

"I already know you love me. I'm sure of it."

"Thank you, Sherlock. For everything."

He smiled weakly down at me, knowing that I wasn't thankful for getting tortured by Moriarty.

"Let's go to bed, shall we?"

"Yeah," I said with a yawn.

I squeezed his hand with mine before I turned my back to him. I pulled the covers up over me as he wrapped his arm around my waist again. He pulled me closer into him. I felt the warmness of his chest and I could smell his musky cologne and the faint smell of smoke. I could feel his breath on my neck as I fell asleep to the soothing beating pattern of his heart.

**BOOM! Not a cliffy so ...boom... The White Lotus was a reference to Avatar: The Last Airbender! I'm sorry for the lack of Molly's POV lately! I'm not sure what POV the next chapter will be in yet. Please review! The reviews that I have want some more friends...**


	23. Ten Seconds

**Hello, ya'll! Major early for a new chapter but hey! Thanks for the reviews from Aviatress****, Empress of Verace, friend2friend1, and Sherlolly-221B (Love your usernames by the way!) 23rd chapter peeps. That's what's up!**

Molly's POV

"She needs to leave. Now."

"Don't be rude, Sherlock," I said swatting him lightly on the arm. Sherlock had woken up early, 6:00 A.M, and found that Irene hadn't left yet. He decided to wake me up as well, like a child would wake up their mother when they had a bad dream. We were now standing in the kitchen arguing about the sleeping woman.

"She can stay here for today too," I said rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

"We have to see her this evening. Why should we have to be graced by her presence at this time?"

"Wait. What's this evening?"

He put his hand to his face, "I forgot to tell you."

"What?"

"There's an event tonight that I have to go to. I was hoping you would go with me as my date. This is strictly a work thing. I'm only taking you because I can't leave you here alone. Not again. I- I missed you a lot today," he said struggling to express his feelings.

I knew now that my cheeks were blushing fiercely. God, he could be so sweet when he wanted to.

"Aww, Sherlock," I said wrapping my arms around his neck and placing a long kiss on his lips, "I missed you too."

He smiled down at me and wrapped his arm around the small of my back while caressing my face with his other hand. He laughed before he leaned down hoping to steal another kiss.

"Well aren't you two just an adorable couple," chimed Irene, ruining the moment.

"Yes we are. Now leave this flat," Sherlock said turning to her now. He dropped his hand from my face but never removed his hand on my back.

I swatted his chest and glared up at him.

"I was planning on taking your dear little Molly dress shopping. I doubt the poor girl has anything that's up to the standards of-"

"Don't talk about her like that," Sherlock said breaking away from me to stand over Irene with intimidation.

"It's fine, Sherlock. Really," I said meekly pulling him back.

Irene looked at me and then at Sherlock, "She's got a short leash on you, doesn't she?"

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Sherlock's hands clenching and unclenching in anger. I backed up to him not taking my eye off Irene and grabbed one of his fists. He immediately entwined his fingers with mine and I could feel his stress melt away at my touch.

"No it's not like that," I said with a nervous laugh, "I'd love to go dress shopping with you Irene. Thank you."

"Let's go then," she said wrapping her coat around her tighter and getting into her heels.

"Now? It's 6:00 AM."

"Well don't you have a job that you have to get to in a couple hours?"

I forgot.

"Yes. Yes I do," I looked up at Sherlock sadly.

"You can either keep making bedroom eyes with your boyfriend or you can come dress shopping with me. You've got ten seconds to decide or I'll leave with or without you."

I let go of Sherlock's hand slowly and nodded to Irene.

"Let me get something else on," I said motioning to my clothes.

"Please do," she said giving me a disgusted up and down look.

I smiled at her before turning around and immediately rolling my eyes at her. She's like old Sherlock 2.0. I made my way to my closet and looked for an outfit. Irene was right. The dresses I had in here were in no way formal enough for this "party." I looked to my right noticing all of Sherlock's clothes shoved in in an attempt to fit in the already cramped closet. It made me smile knowing that Sherlock and I are serious. My eyes then fell to the dress I had worn on our first date. It seems so long ago. I played with the ruffles on the hem of the dress and smiled. I grabbed a dark navy shirt and crossed the room and grabbed a pair of jeans out of my dresser. I changed in the bathroom, feeling more self-conscious with another person in my small flat. I emerged from the bathroom, pulling my hair up in a high ponytail. I walked to the door out of my bedroom and closed it behind me. I strode into the main hallway and pulled on my coat not looking at anyone in particular. Well no one was looking at me either. Sherlock and Irene must have had a nice chat when I was gone and now they were staring at each other intensely. I could tell Irene was trying to undress him with her eyes. I cleared my throat and they both looked to me at the same time, not allowing either to win the contest.

"You can either keep making bedroom eyes with my boyfriend or you can come dress shopping with me. You've got ten seconds to decide or I'll leave with or without you," I said quoting her exact words from just a few minutes ago.

"Well in that case…" she said stepping closer to Sherlock. Sherlock saw her advance out of the corner of his eye and retreated backwards hitting the counter.

"That's far enough, Woman," holding his hand out to keep distance between each other.

"Very well," she said giving him a seductive wink. She strode, no sauntered, out the front door making her way to the streets below. I sighed heavily at her rudeness and walked up to Sherlock.

"Thanks for sticking up for me, Sherlock. It was really sweet of you."

"I suppose it was, yes," he said shifting uncomfortably from the surplus of exposure to the Woman. I do have to admit, the way Irene can make Sherlock so uncomfortable is hilarious.

I smiled weakly up at him and wrapped my arms around his neck giving him a quick hug. The way he warmed up my body from head to toe made me smile and I gave him a quick peck on the lips. I turned away, a little too early for Sherlock's taste, and found myself being pulled back by the wrist our bodies, crashing together.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"What do you mean? I'm going dress shopping."

"But you forgot to do something. You were about to walk out without saying-"

"I love you," I said finishing his sentence.

"What was that? I'm sorry I didn't hear you," he said playfully, pulling me closer to him.

"I love you Sherlock."

He ducked his head down until his forehead rested on mine. We stood there for a minute before he moved to whisper in my ear, "I love you too."

**BOOM! I guess love could be a cliffhanger...just a mini cliff? Alright fine...'boom'... Happy? Please review! _BE WARNED_. If the review button didn't invite you to it's BBQ than don't get all up in it's grill. It hates when people do that. :D**


	24. Keep Calm and Carry On

**Hello! 24th chapter! Whoop whoop! School for me is nearing the end of the quarter so my teacher's are being arses right now. So many papers and reports! I also just started watching Merlin so I've been a bit preoccupied...:/ sorry! Enjoy this nugget :D**

Molly's POV

"No."

"Why?"

"Don't you think that dress is a little…I don't know…slutty."

Irene looked at me with pure shock as if I insulted her taste, "I think Sherlock would love this on you."

"Yes but he probably wouldn't look where I want him to look. And that's my eyes and not my chest thank you."

"Every woman wants a man to look at her breasts."

I inwardly shook my head at the disgusting statement and grabbed the end of a dress and fanned it out, looking at the lovely placement of draping.

"Please god no."

"What's wrong with this one?"

"It's hideous."

"Alright fine," I said letting go of the dress and turning to her. Crossing my arms, I continued, "Show me dresses that are fancy enough but not something that is too…revealing."

She accepted the challenge and walked around me heading in the direction of a rack of dresses. I sat down on the regal looking sofa and waited. I knew I was going to regret coming here with her. Irene never really had anything nice to say about me or anything for that matter. Except Sherlock's arse. After several minutes and many glares of Irene to dresses she despised, she returned to me. She dropped the three dresses into my expecting arms and practically ripped me off of the sofa by the wrist.

"Go in there," she said pointing to the dressing room, "Try on all of them and come out after you try on each one."

I nodded and sighed heavily. Here comes the criticism. Closing the satiny curtain behind me, I hung up the dresses and choose the first one on the rack. It had a deep green tone and it was stunning but not in any way, my style. I discarded my clothing and slipped into the long elegant dress. After many awkward and unsuccessful attempts, I finally was able to ride the zipper up to the back of my neck. Stepping out I saw Irene shake visibly at the sight of me. I sighed and turned again towards the dressing room.

"Not a good one, eh?" I asked.

"It made you look paler and made your breasts look like they were non-existent."

I could feel hot tears well in my eyes at the harsh words and tried on the next dress. It was a vibrant shade of red and stopped a couple of inches, too many inches, above my knees. _No. This isn't the one_. The thought reminded me of a bride looking for the perfect dress for her wedding. Fantasies of Sherlock and I becoming husband and wife flooded my mind and heart and I couldn't help but smile. I always thought that marriage was just a piece of paper, but marriage is still something important you do with the person you know you will love forever and I feel like I have that kind of love with Sherlock. Images of Sherlock swept over me. Getting down on one knee, sliding the ring onto my finger while he looked up at me with those giant and intense eyes…

I woke out of my lovely thoughts as I heard Irene yell at me from the other side of the curtain.

"You can come out anytime you know?"

I shimmied the dress off of me and let it lay on the ground as I quickly grabbed the last dress and stepped into. I put my arms through the thick straps and rested them on my shoulders. Fastening the zipper up to the top, I found myself looking intently at the dress and myself in the mirror. It was a light shade of pink, almost peach, and stopped just above my knees at the right length. There was a small slit on the right side of the dress, not revealing much, but still beautifully placed. From the slit to the empire waist was small little clusters of white flowers, butterflies, and peacock feathers which branched off giving the impression of a belt. The dress was slightly obtruding on the hem with an inch length of white ruffles on the ends. I impulsively twirled around once and took in the beauty that the dress gave me. I hate to admit it but I almost felt like a princess. I know that I myself am not much to look at but the dress helped my self-conscience a little. Sherlock may say I'm beautiful but I know he's just being nice to me.

I gave myself a weak smile in the mirror and pulled back the curtain to reveal myself to Irene. She was sitting forward on the couch looking utterly bored. She turned her head to me and I swore I could see her eyes grow a bit wider at the sight of me. Sherlock told me plenty about Irene and I knew that Irene was gay. The way she looked at me made me a bit uncomfortable but I knew she didn't like me like that seeing as she keeps insulting my appearance not once saying something good about me.

I strangely found myself looking for her approval but her look of admiration went away as quick as it came and she stood up and said coldly, "That will do. Go change."

I knew that she approved of the dress but didn't seem like she wanted to express it. Irene walked over to a rack of dresses to find one for herself. I turned back around a little dramatically just to twirl in the dress again and pulled the curtain closed behind me. I felt like a little girl as I twirled again and giggled softly to myself. I dreaded that I had to take it off and go back into my now seemingly boring jeans and t-shirt. Pulling the curtain back again, I grabbed my small tote off of the ground and my new dress off of the rack. I ran my free hand through my hair as I looked around for Irene. I finally spotted her at the fancy check out desk in the large and expensive boutique. As I walked over to join her, I noticed that she had already picked a dress out for herself. It was a very short and skimpy dark purple dress that looked more like a deep cut shirt than a real dress. I laughed silently to myself and gave the dress to the saleswoman. She was a very regal and young woman with her black hair tightly tied in an elegant ponytail. The dress she was wearing was as dark as her hair and made her look pasty, not to mention that the lacy sleeves made it look like a mourning dress. She gave me an up and down look and practically scoffed at me with her eyes. I rolled my eyes at her when she wasn't looking and set Mycroft's credit card on the counter with a smack. She gave me a nasty glare and took my card.

I usually don't mess with people, but when they look at me like that it bothers me.

"Excuse me?"

She simply glared at me again and waited for me to speak.

"Do you have a problem with me?"

She looked somewhat shocked, "No, ma'am," she said and handed me my dress and my card.

"That dress isn't really working for you."

"Excuse me?" she said staring confusedly.

"You heard me."

I put my card back in my bag and started walking away before I turned around again telling her, "Oh. And have a great day."

Irene gave the woman the same up and down look that the woman gave me and made an audible scoffing noise. She followed me out, laughing.

**BOOM! Sassy Molly deserves a BOOM! Go leave a review! There's chicken nuggets waiting for you... ;D **


	25. Blasted Blushes

**HEY! I have the 25th chapter here for you guys. You're welcome... ENJOY!**

Sherlock's POV

I walked through the streets of London in the direction of the morgue. Molly had started work six hours ago and I was left to my own deadly devices. I had left the Woman at Molly's flat. She was quite boring and I felt considerably uncomfortable in her presence. I was almost positive that she wouldn't make any more advances on me but a man can't be too careful.

I was relieved when I finally took in the large and familiar building in front of me. St. Bartholomew's hospital. This is the place where Molly and I had first met. There was a pathologist before Molly, an old and cranky man that absolutely despised me. He would call security whenever I asked for his assistance and I was forced to break into the lab at night which was never an easy task. The old man finally retired after being employed there for almost thirty years. I was relieved that the man had left but was wary. I wasn't sure who would be the new pathologist and I wouldn't know who they really are. I was hoping that the person would have some sort of mystery behind them but I remember what I thought when I first saw Molly and what I deduced. She was confident with others until her eyes laid on me.

Her pupils had dilated and she blushed furiously, "_He-Hello. I'm Miss Molly Hooper the new pathologist."_

"_Sherlock Holmes. I'm a consulting detective and I use this lab often. You have to grant me access of course but I was hoping a nice woman like you would let me in whenever I please," _I had said giving her the biggest grin.

She began blushing again and had said, "_I don't see how that could be too much of a problem."_

"_Great. I need you to wheel out a body for me while you check on some cultures of mine."_

When I had said that I could see the gleam from her eyes disappear as she was ordered around by me in that moment and for the many years after. She was young for a pathologist and I deduced that she was never really given any attention by her peers or teachers. They had all thought she was too young or too stupid to be in university at her age. She was a hard worker and paid close attention to her academics. Her parents weren't rich but put her in all of the good schools. She knew this at the time and strived to make her parents proud of her and show how grateful she was. She must not have done sports because she would think they were a distraction from homework or extra credit. Being the class nerd, she was picked on, criticized, and bullied. Only had a couple of friends that really understood her but never stood up for her because they were afraid they'd be picked on too. Lonely and shy was she.

I had deduced all of that when I was looking over at her studying her features for my mind palace. She was working over a body with watchful eyes as I looked up from the microscope. I quite respected the amount of focus she puts into her work. I knew that she was a hard worker and assumed that she would work here for a long time so I studied her in detail. Long caramel hair, brown doe eyes, definitive nose, thin but articulate lips, height; 5:3, average weight, and visually content but inside, emotionally unstable. Most likely due to the facts of her lack of friends and basic social life, her father's death, and the lack of relationships with suitors in the past. Even then I thought she was beautiful and could be somewhat tolerable like I do now, but I just blocked it out and decided to never let her know that that was what I thought of her. I'm truly grateful that she was able to tolerate me for all of the years she's known me. No one's ever been able to deal with me for as long as she has. I walked down the last long corridor to the morgue, the door almost in sight. I was actually excited to see her. It's not strange that I was excited to see Molly but I was just baffled that I was actually feeling this at all. I never thought I would ever find someone or even be interested in finding someone. Ever. I was reminded of that often. But is that what I think? That Molly and I found each? As if we were meant for each other and we would be together forever? I wasn't planning on breaking up with her at any point but I wasn't sure if I wanted to get married to her. Marriage is just a piece of paper and financial effects but I'm sure that Molly's thought or fantasized about it already but I still don't know what she thinks about marriage either. Maybe she was like me or maybe she's like most women who have pictured their wedding since they were ten. Stacks of bridal magazines hidden somewhere secret with color coded tabs sticking out the sides because of careful planning. I chuckled at the thought. Molly doesn't have any hiding places in our flat that I don't already know about. _Our_ flat?It was a slip of thought but I liked it. I finally walked up to the door to the morgue as I smiled to myself and opened it. I looked around until I found Molly sitting at her desk. I walked over silently noticing that she hadn't seen me yet. I was hoping to give her a surprise hello but I found that she was fast asleep. She sat at her stool her head laying on top of her crossed arms that were crossed limply on the countertop. A stack of finished paperwork was beside her and all of the surfaces of the morgue were scrubbed clean. She must have been exhausted. I bit my lip to contain a laugh and sat down next to her making sure not to stir her in her sleep just yet. I mimicked her position and looked closely at her as she slept. Her delicate lashes would flutter every now and then and her lips were parted slightly and she was smiling slightly. She must be having a good dream. Right when I thought this her brow furrowed and she pursed her lips. Something's wrong. I straightened in my seat not looking at her with a smile but with worry in my eyes.

"Molly?" I called to her softly, "Molly?" I asked again, louder.

She stirred from her sleep and her eyes fluttered open suddenly. She jolted up, quickly looking around the room worriedly. Her scared eyes fell on me and they softened.

"Remind me to never fall asleep at work again," she said leaning her head on my shoulder, closing her eyes tightly.

"Bad dream was it?" I whispered softly in her ear as I wrapped my arm around her shoulders.

"Yeah," she whispered," Don't ask me about it. Alright?" she asked looking up at me hopefully like a child asking their teacher not to tell their parent's on them.

"I won't ask if you don't want to share. I won't force you to tell me."

"Thanks."

"Not a problem, love," I said and kissed her forehead.

"Love?" she proclaimed and sat up suddenly and turned to me in her stool.

"Sorry it just-"

"Don't apologize!" she said almost yelling, "I like it," she whispered softly now.

"Alright!" I said throwing up my hands as if I was surrendering.

Good," she gave me a flirtatious wink, "Now I've got one more autopsy to do," she said looking at the clock on the wall and getting up. She rubbed at one of her eyes and physically tried to shake off her sleepiness. She had somewhat succeeded and looked more alert but she struggled to get her hands into her gloves. As I watched her I started laughing unconsciously. She looked over at me sadly and after a few seconds, she started laughing at herself with pity.

"Blasted gloves!" she exclaimed.

"Don't give up, Molly," I said focusing the microscope, "I still believe in you."

Thanks, Sherlock," she said sarcastically and laughed again.

I started to look into my microscope again before something caught my eye. Just under Molly's cheekbone was a small blue line. I looked at it quizzically and eventually connected the dots. Molly fell asleep on an open file where she had been filling out paperwork with her blue pen. I l shook my head and smiled as I got up, walking around the counter and stood in front of Molly.

"I've got to get this autopsy done, Sherlock. I can't fool around right now," she said giving me a weak smile and turned back to her work.

"You have some pen on your cheek."

"Oh," she realized blushing. She tried rubbing it off with her hand but when she took her hand away the mark was still there.

"Did I get it off?"

"No. Here allow me."

I slightly licked my thumb and caressed her face with my other hand as I rubbed at it lightly. After a few seconds I took my thumb away and admired my work.

"There," I said kissing the spot where the mark had been.

"Thanks."

I held her face in both of my hands now and kissed her lips lightly.

I pulled away quickly, "I'll let you get back to work," I said with a flirtatious smirk and strode back to my seat.

"You're such a flirt," she whispered loud enough for me to hear.

"Yes now get to work. Don't be too overly swooned by my charm. We've got a party to go to and I want _my_ lovely Molly Hooper to be alert and focused."

A few seconds later I added softly, "And we have to take a two hour train ride to get there."

"Wh-what?!" she stammered and turned on her heels to face me.

"I'm sorry I didn't inform you before. We can have our own separate compartment from the Woman if you want. I was actually planning on being separated from her anyways."

At that she laughed and blushed furiously and murmured to herself, "Perfect."

**BOOM! Not much of a boom I guess... WHATEVER PEASANTS! Lol just kidding I love you guys.**

** _I SERIOUSLY THINK YOU GUYS WON'T WRITE A REVIEW JUST SO I CAN'T GET 100! GRRR! I WAS WAITING FOR ONE MORE BUT NO. YOU GUYS HAVE TO BE SUCH TROLLS... _  
**

**Go leave a review to prove you aren't a creepy under-a-bridge troll.**


	26. Choo! Choo!

**Heyyy! Bit early but hey! You ain't complainin'! The title's silly but IDGAF! ;D**

Molly's POV

The loud screaming of a train whistle interrupted the song Behind Blue Eyes by the Who, that was playing on my iPod. I took my headphones out and pocketed the gadget. After listening to the song for the second time in a row I noticed something in the lyrics.

_No one knows what it's like _

_To be the bad man _

_To be the sad man_

_Behind blue eyes_

I couldn't help but apply the song to Sherlock, not just because of the intense color of his eyes but of what the lyrics said. Sherlock was always seen as a bad man because he told people the truth and he always looked sad when he thought John couldn't see him. Now he's seen as the man who made everything up. That Moriarty isn't real and that he isn't as clever as he seemed to be. But I know the truth. It's not a lot but it's still something. Moriarty is real and I have the marks to prove it.

I planned on getting lost in my thoughts again before Sherlock opened the door to our compartment soundly and shut it with the same magnitude.

"What's wrong, darling?" I said and muffled a laugh. Seeing him so distraught was quite entertaining. He took off his long gray coat that somewhat resembled the one he previously had. Along with it went his vest, a dark blue fedora, and a medium-sized duffle bag that he sat on the seats across from me. He sat down next to me with a huff and crossed his legs, propping them on the empty seat across from him.

"That woman is insufferable. She made me carry all of her bags. She has three bags. Three! What on earth could she need that would require that many bags?" he enquired while flailing his hands around angrily as he spoke

"Well I'm not so sure how friendly she is with Moran but maybe he requires her…services," I said with a comforting tone.

Sherlock chuckled at that and scooted farther away from me to the other end of the seat. I was confused by this at first until he almost commanded me, "Lay down."

I blushed at this, knowing that the seat was far too short to lie down completely. I did as he requested and laid down my head on his lap. He looked down at me intently and didn't take his eyes off of me for even a second.

"What?" I asked with a nervous chuckle, finally breaking eye contact.

"Nothing," he said shaking his head, "It's just… your eyes are so beautiful. Your lips may be small but they're perfect."

He traced my lips lightly with his fingers and did the same with my eyebrows, ears, the shape of my face, and my chin.

After another long stare, he laughed, "It's like you were molded by Aphrodite herself."

"Sherlock, stop it," I said and playfully swatted his hand away.

"No. I'm serious," he confirmed caressing my face again with his left hand while holding my hand with his right. I rolled my eyes at his kindness and moved my head to look away. At this he gently pushed my face back, forcing me to look up at him. He pushed stray strands of hair behind my ear and put his hand around my neck while he stroked my cheek softly with his thumb. God does he always have to be a tease? Sherlock started to lean down closer his hair tickling my face. In a swarm of passion, I sat up slightly wrapping my arm around his neck and kissing him fervently on his lovely cupid shaped lips. He wrapped his arm around my back and put his other arm under my legs. In one swift motion, he pulled me on top of him so I now sat in his lap. I laughed against his lips and ran my hand through his luscious locks. Thank god he didn't dye it or cut it off. His lips tasted like coffee and smoke and he didn't smell like cologne, only his natural scent. I loved his naturally musky smell and took in a long breath as he planted kisses on my neck and chin. One hand was on my cheek and the other riding slowly up my thigh. I couldn't find myself to stop him. The sensation of his cold hands made my skin shiver and I had to admit that I liked it. Just as his hand slid under my skirt, I stopped his hand by placing my hand on top of it and entwining our fingers together. I didn't want the kissing to stop but I needed him to know I wasn't mad at him. I took my hand out of his hair and lightly put it on his chest, motioning for him to stop.

"Sherlock, I-"

He looked embarrassed and blushed, pulling away and taking his hands off of me, "I'm sorry, Molly. I-I shouldn't have. I know you aren't-"

"No, Sherlock. It's fine. I am."

"You are?"

"I've had plenty of time to get over everything, don't you think?" I said and smiled at him weakly, "Believe me. I'd love to," my cheeks flaming red. I held both of his hands in mine now.

I couldn't bring myself to look at him in the eye but my voice was firm, "but just not on a train… okay?"

"Of course. I'm sorry."

It was him now that couldn't make eye contact with me. Who knew Sherlock could be so embarrassed but so adorable at the same time?

I decided to crack the tension so he didn't have to look so uncomfortable and embarrassed. I wasn't sure where the request came from, but before I knew it the words tumbled out of my mouth, "Recite a bit of poetry for me, will you?"

Sherlock smiled at this and looked away thoughtfully, trying to think of the perfect quote. I smiled brightly, eager to hear what he chose. I turned now sitting straight on his lap. I took his hands and wrapped them around my waist, resting my head on his shoulder.

He leaned forward slightly his lips brushing my ear, "I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps. Sonnet XI, Pablo Neruda."

I smiled and faced him, our faces barely an inch apart, "Where did you get that from?"

"It reminded me of how I feel about you."

"God I love you Sherlock," I said with a laugh, "You always know the right thing to say."

He laughed too and said, "I love you too."

The rest of the journey was spent laying and sitting in different positions doing absolutely nothing. I guess we were never quite comfortable. At one point we laid down on opposite seats of the compartment and held hands in the space that separated us. Now we were lying on the ground shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand with Sherlock whispering sweet compliments, flirtatious remarks, and romantic poetry in my ear.

**BOOM! No it's more like ...boom...**

**Behind Blue Eyes is by the Who obvi like said before. My brother had to do a project where you had to apply a modern song to fictional characters of books, movies, or tv shows. He chose the original Sherlock Holmes books as his project (Sherlock wasn't even on yet when this project was assigned) For Sherlock he chose Behind Blue Eyes and I have it on my iPod. I love it and it totally applies to Sherlock don't ya think? The romantic quote was something I just found online somewhere and I immediately thought of Sherlock's feelings about Molly in my fic. I just think of Sherlolly whenever I hear/see something romantic. Lol I'm weird like that!**

**Go leave a review! If you do you will forever be in the guild of awesomeness that is real but imaginary at the same time. Mysteriousness...**

**_I ALSO WANTED TO LET PEOPLE KNOW THAT IF YOU WANT YOU CAN MAKE SOME FANART FOR MY FIC AND IF YOU DO IT DOESN'T HAVE TO BE AMAZING OR ANYTHING. YOUR REWARD WOULD BE A SHERLOLLY PROMPT FOR LATER CHAPTERS THAT I WILL ACCEPT ALWAYS. TAKE THIS INTO CONSIDERATION PLEASE. I REALLY WANT SOME FANART..._**


	27. Simply Annoying

**HEY! Really late I know! Hopefully this chapter will make up for your anger lol! Thanks to Anything Could Happen for checking out my story even though you didn't have to! ;D Enjoy!**

Sherlock's POV

The whistling of the train sounded through the compartment stirring me from my sleep. I sat up and rubbed at my eyes before running a hand through my tousled hair. It was beginning to get dark outside as the train slowly came to a halt at the station. I looked around noticing that Molly was nowhere to be seen. I distinctly remembered her humming to a song on her iPod while she leaned on my shoulder. I got up putting on my shoes and making for the door. Just as I reached the handle, I heard Molly on the other side talking to someone.

"Let me just get Sherlock and our things and we'll meet you outside, okay?" Molly said, her voice muffled by the door.

There was no response from the person who must have been the Woman and the latch on the door started to turn slowly. I quickly sat back down in the sleeping position I was in before and closed my eyes convincingly. I wasn't sure why I pretended to be asleep. Maybe I wanted to see if Molly would say something or start humming something or maybe I just wanted to see how she acted when I wasn't conscious of what she was doing. It didn't seem to fool Molly.

"I know you're awake."

I sprang up out of my seat and glared down at her, "How did you know that?"

"You have your shoes on. They weren't on before."

"Very good deduction, love," I said pushing her chin up gently with my index finger, "Very good."

She blushed at the name like she always would when I called her by it. I'm beginning to think she prefers it over her given name. I gave her a long kiss on her soft lips before allowing her to pack up the small amount of things that she brought along as I buttoned up my vest, put my coat on over it, and set the fedora correctly on my head to hide my curls. With our bag on her arm she laced her opposite arm around mine. I smiled down at her as we made it down the cramped corridor filled with people dashing about. A man bumped into Molly, hard, and I was about to turn around and go after him before Molly yanked on my arm to get my attention.

"You don't have to be such a gentleman all the time. It was just an accident."

"But what if he was-"

"Sherlock, you're being paranoid. People bump into each other on the street all of the time. It doesn't mean they're all working for a serial killer."

"Fine," I said before stealing a last glance at the perfectly normal looking man who had looked back at the same time. Short blond hair, green eyes, medium build. I felt like there was something oddly familiar about him but I couldn't be sure. The man disappeared around the corridor just as we turned a corner as well. I hopped off of the side of the resting train. While the jump was only two feet off the ground, it had rained. I grabbed Molly around the waist and lifted her through the air and held her briefly in my arms before I let her go gently onto the ground. She giggled soundly at this and put her arm around under my coat and around my waist. I wrapped my arm around her waist as well and pulled her closer to my side, feeling more protective of her as dozens of busy pedestrians dashed about. After walking a ways I was somewhat taken aback by what I saw. With one red heel resting against the bricks of the railway station, the Woman puffed out an air of smoke, almost in a seductive manner, and took another drag on her cigarette.

"I didn't know you smoked," Molly stated as we came to a stop in front of her.

"I only smoke," she said, dropping her cigarette on the ground and stepping on it, "when people annoy me."

"How have I annoyed you?" Molly inquired confusedly.

"Not you," she said, rolling her eyes, "him."

"And what have I done?" I asked incredulously.

"You left me to carry my bags all by myself," she said angrily and shoved bag after bag after bag in my arms causing me to quickly let go of Molly before I dropped her "precious" things. I gave Molly a weary smile and set the Woman's bags in the boot of the cab that was waiting on the curb with other cabs hunting for their next fare. I looked around briefly for the man we had encountered earlier but he was nowhere to be found. With another flicker of my eyes through the crowd I ducked into the cab and closed the door. Molly reflexively held my hand and I smiled down at her planting a long kiss on her lips, completely forgetting that Irene was in the cab or that I had to tell the cabbie where we were going. I cut the kiss short much to Molly's disappointment and told the cabbie the name of our hotel. With a sudden jerk, the cab lurched forward and pulled away from the curb and onto the street. Someone was having a bad day.

"What's the plan?" the Woman asked suddenly.

"You do have one don't you?" asked Molly now.

"Of course I do."

"Then what is it?" Molly questioned.

I thought for a moment before I started to speak but before I had the chance, the woman scoffed aloud and said, "Dear god," and put her face in her hand and shook it.

"Oh stop being so dramatic Woman. I_ will_ have a perfectly effective plan with the help of Molly," I stated looking at Molly now.

She looked up at me confusedly, "What? Why me? Surely you have better ideas thank I do"

"Because you are equally as brilliant."

"I wouldn't go as far to say that," Molly said blushing.

Irene ruined the moment with her voice sounding through the car again, "Oh and now with the flirting!"

"It wasn't flirtation. It was simply a fact," I said knowing that would annoy her even more.

She gave me a cold and agitated stare before Molly spoke up trying to ease the moment and get back on topic.

"Alright then," she said nervously, "Tell us what you have so far."

I looked at the Woman now, "You will enter first. We will follow shortly after. Molly and I will keep our distance from you and Moran. Chat him up, use your…ways… to persuade him to go with you to the secluded area where Mycroft's men will be."

"Where will that be."

"My sources tell me that Moran likes to take his woman friends to a secretive room upstairs somewhere. Mycroft knows where it is and will have his men waiting, guns ready, for you. If he leads you to the wrong room, this will come in handy."

I pulled the listening bug out of my pocket and handed it over to her.

"What is this for?" she exclaimed, "Do you take pleasure in hearing me make out with other men?"

"It's for your own safety," Molly assumed.

"And why do you think it's for my safety?" the Woman asked, putting the bug in her pocket.

"If you're led to the wrong room and there's no one there you're all alone with a ruthless assassin. She should have some sort of code word," Molly said looking at me now.

"Yes I had the same thought exactly."

"Well it has to be something that isn't strange to say in a normal conversation and it has to be something that wouldn't sound strange for Irene to say."

I smiled proudly at Molly and looked at the Woman now, "How about… I know what you like?"

The Woman rolled her eyes annoyingly.

"Do you say that often?" Molly asked the Woman.

"Apparently I do."

"What is it supposed to imply?" Molly inquired looking at me and then looking back at her questioningly.

The Woman continued to look annoyed as she stared out the window.

"You wouldn't want to know," I whispered in her ear.

She looked up at me, confused for a moment before her mouth opened in a small O shape and she looked disgustedly over at the Woman for a brief moment before she herself looked out the window feeling awkward now. I started tracing circles on her hand with my thumb just as the cart came to a sudden halt causing both women to hit their head on the windows.

"What a prat," the Woman said under her breath as Molly simply rubbed away at her head. I got out of the cab followed by the Woman. I held out my hand to help Molly out of the cab and she grabbed it pulling herself up. The moment she stood up in front of me I put her face in my hands and expected her head. The spot was slightly red in color and would go away within the hour without any bruising. Satisfied with my inspection I brushed my lips lightly over the spot and then kissed her on the lips now.

"There. All better now."

**BOOM! I guess it's a cliffhanger because the next chapter will be the party at the White Lotus! I found out today while seeing Perks of Being a Wallflower in theaters that cliffhanger comes from some book by Charles Dickens where a character is hanging my his fingers off of a cliff hence cliffhanger! There's some lovely logic from your lovely avatardsherlockian ;D Please leave a review! I will try to remember to give all reviewers a shout out in the next chapter! I'll actually just respond to your reviews in the beginning of the chapter as well! ;D**


	28. I'll Keep You Safe

**Hello fellow Sherlockians! Yes I am mondo late in this update! That rhymed. Truthfully homework wasn't really the obstacle, it was my pure laziness and the fact that I just got a whole bunch of awesome video games too! Gamer here whoop whoop! Now for the review responses ;D**

**Rocking the Redhead- Thanks! Sorry bout the late update! New chapter coming up much earlier I promise!**

**Empress of Verace- Thanks so much! It's always a pleasure to see your reviews on a new chapter! Lots of love ;D**

**Aviatress- Your amazing and random. You just are. Lol thanks for your awesome words :)**

**Timer2- Hello guest! Thanks! Yes this is my first thank you so much! That is so nice! I can't really tell if your latest review was anger when you said 'you've blown the ending' but yeah. Thanks for the multiple reviews love :D**

**AdaYuki- Thanks for the review! Here's something that might hold you over for a while! New chapter will come much sooner I promise!**

**And now on to reading. Are you ready for the story? (creepy Moriarty voice)**

Molly's POV

I rode the zipper home and felt the familiar fabric comfortably on my body. I was wearing the lovely peach colored dress that Irene had helped me pick out. It was different than the others and I think that she just gave me those other two dresses to see if I would pick the dress that was truly the one for me. And I did. I have to hand it to Irene; she has a good sense of style, not just for herself but for others. Well, you can't really require going commando under a trench coat style but when she actually did wear clothing, she always looked sophisticated.

"Hurry up, Molly!" Sherlock yelled, his voice muffled from the bathroom door in between us.

I smiled and rolled my eyes at the impatient man as I stepped into my white flats. Heels were never really my thing and I could hardly stay standing when I wore them. Pulling my hair up into an elegant ponytail and draping it over my right shoulder, I placed a simple diamond necklace that Irene had insisted I wore, on my chest. Smoothing down my dress and then my hair, I grabbed the door handle bracing myself for the criticism I would get from Irene once Sherlock and I would meet her in the hotel lobby. Why was I worried about what she thought at a time like this or even at all? She's given me a pretty clear opinion on what she thought of me already.

Shaking off my nerves, I opened the door, walking out slowly. Sherlock was wearing a strikingly black tuxedo with a matching black tie. The contrast of his tux to his face made his fair skin look almost ghostly and made his eyes look bluer than ever. He looked strikingly gorgeous and I felt so underdressed. He was currently busy fidgeting with the cufflinks on his shirt sleeves to notice I was now in the room.

"Need some help with that?"

His hair whipped around as he looked up swiftly, clearly agitated with his problem. It wasn't hard to notice that when Sherlock's eyes fell on me, his expression softened. His alabaster skin didn't hide his bl ush as much as he wanted it to.

"Uh," he said playing with his cufflinks again, "Yes I do."

Did I just make Sherlock Holmes say "uh?" Feeling quite pleased with myself, I walked over and helped him.

"I don't wear cufflinks often," he confessed.

I looked up at him for a brief moment noticing the way he looked at the cufflinks as if they were important or sentimental to him. They must have been acquired when he was with John, I assumed.

"Did John give these to you?" I asked quietly.

"No. I received them as a gift when we had successfully solved a case," he said looking up at me now, "How did you know it had something to do with John?"

"It's just the way you looked at them. Like they were part of a sad memory."

He remained silent.

Within a minute, both cufflinks were secured and he was ready. Well almost. A fedora wouldn't do at this sort of party so he had brought along a top hat that was currently sitting on the small table by the door next to me.

"You look handsome," I told him with a wink.

"You do as well," he said confidently at first but came to a realization, "I-I mean. You look beautiful not handsome. Women can be described as handsome but I assume most would think you were calling them a man."

"Thank you, Sherlock," I said looking down timidly.

"Not just beautiful," he continued, gaining his confidence back and walked in a circle around me only to once again stand in front of me, "Stunning, ravishing, entrancing, gorgeous, elegant, striking, dazzling, outstanding, exquis-"

"Yes, thank you, Sherlock but you don't have to list all of the synonyms of beautiful to make sure I know that's what you think," I stated, shaking my head at him and crossing my arms defiantly.

"Really? Sometimes I think you don't believe me when I tell you such a thing. I do have a few more on the tip of my tongue if you wouldn't mind," he teased, "Mesmerizing, captivating, spell-binding, enthrall-"

I rolled my eyes at him and stood on my tiptoes, pulling his still jabbering lips onto mine. He kissed me back at first, gently placing his lips perfectly on mine each time, but he stopped all of a sudden. I planted my feet firmly on the ground, him bringing his forehead to rest on mine. He took my face in both of my hands and exhaled tiredly, my hands gripping the lapels of his suit jacket.

"Sherlock are you alright?"

"You shouldn't be here. You shouldn't be going with," he whispered taking his forehead off of mine and staring into my eyes.

"You should be living your life," he continued, brushing his thumbs over my cheeks gently, "Not following mine. None of this should have anything to do with you but it does because of me. Do you even realize that I've ruined your life?" he questioned, his voice wavering.

"What?!" I asked incredulous, feeling almost hurt.

"I have and you've been too polite to point it out to me," his voice firm.

"Sherlock, no," I took his large hands into mine and gazed up into his intense eyes, "If anything you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. You probably think it would be better if we never met at all but that's not true. I have never regretted the moment you stepped into Bart's and made me fall in love with you. You make me happy, Sherlock and you're the only one that can make me happy the way you do," I said with a nervous laugh.

Sherlock's head cocked slightly in shock or confusion, I couldn't tell. He looked at me intensely possibly trying to deduce if I was telling the truth.

"How can you love a man like me?" he finally asked.

"Because of the kind of man you are," I said laughing at him again, "You help people. You save people's lives all of the time. You always tell the truth and you're loyal to anyone who will put up with you."

Sherlock smiled broadly, reaching around me to grab the top hat on the table, placing it on his head. He still smiled down at me, almost with a hint of giddiness. I reached up, tucking in loose curls under his hat. He was acting so strangely. You could even call his mood silly if you felt the need to specify it. He linked arms with me, like a proper gentleman on a proper date. But that's not what this is. This is such a serious event and Sherlock is acting happy and energetic. It's as if what I said is fueling some sort of high that he would only get when he got a case involving a serial killer. Walking through the corridor, he pushed the button to the lift, it arriving in a few seconds. We walked in, leaning our backs up against the wall. He now put his hand on top of mine, a smile still adorning his face.

"Alright. What's got you in such a mood?" I asked him finally.

"Nothing."

"It's not nothing. What is it Sherlock?"

He rubbed soft circles over my knuckles, "It's just," he said his eyes moving from my hand to look up at me, "You believe in me."

"Of course I do," I stated, still slight confused.

"Not a lot of people believe in me. Not a lot of people used to believe in me that is."

"And the fact that I believe in you has made you act more like a child than you usually are?" I questioned.

"I am not a child," he said with an air of annoyance as if he had been told such a thing on numerous occasions.

"Oh yes you are," I said stepping off the lift, "You're a big man child who huffs and whines as if you were a seven year old boy."

"It's called having an opinion."

Seeing that Sherlock would never admit to his behavior, I decided to drop the matter and switch to a different topic.

"Where are we anyways? I never asked."

"Bristol."

"Bristol?" I looked around as we made our way to the waiting black vehicle, "I've never been. Have you?"

"Only on work business. I still know the area well and my homeless network is spread out far and wide. No need to worry."

"I'm not worried."

"Why is that?"

"Because I've got you to protect me."

He smiled down at me briefly before kissing the top of my head. As we made it to the car and Sherlock opened the door for me, a question still lingered.

"Sherlock?"

"Yes?"

"Are you worried?"

He looked at me long and hard, contemplating if he should admit something he would consider weak. After a moment of silence he answered, "Constantly."

* * *

"You aren't going to be listening in on everything are you?"

"Of course not," Sherlock huffed with a hint of annoyance.

"Sorrrry, if I don't want you two listening in on my snogging with an assassin," Irene practically yelled, getting the full attention, and anger, of Sherlock.

"Bloody hell! Would you mind keeping your voice down? I know very much so that you like to be dramatic but for god's sake!" Sherlock had started to yell with equal volume as Irene had previously.

Calming down for a moment he continued, "Forget it. We don't have time for this nonsense."

Checking his watch he continued, "It's almost eleven and you have to meet Moran at eleven sharp," he said to Irene, "We must get there soon."

Quickening his pace and still holding my hand, I was forced to walk just as fast as him. I bet he didn't even realize that I had to compete with his large strides and long legs. I could hear Irene's heels clobber against the stone sidewalk as she tried to keep up with us. She had let her hair down and wore her skimpy silk purple dress with matching high heels, almost six inches, and a flashy diamond necklace that she said 'didn't clash with her cleavage.'

The building was apparently in sight, as I felt Sherlock's hand slip from mine and wrap around my waist protectively. I rubbed on his back briefly and looked up at him with a reassuring smile. He really is worried. It was now that I fully understood that he wasn't worried about his plan. No. He was worried about my safety. I felt touched and loved but I also felt as if he thought I would easily get myself in trouble. I wouldn't. I can't let myself mess up something as important as this. Besides, I will only engage if I'm needed or if Sherlock is in danger. I can take care of myself now and Sherlock taught me how. I now know that he only taught me self-defense in the event that he wouldn't be around to protect me. If he was dead to be more specific.

Irene interrupted my thoughts, which weren't very happy ones at that, when she spoke up, "I must do the talking or the likes of you won't even make it passed the front door," she said as Sherlock slowed down, allowing Irene to walk ahead of us.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Sherlock questioned.

Irene turned around abruptly causing us both to stop, "This isn't the first time I've been to one of Sebby's parties," Irene leaned in closer to Sherlock, "If you know what I mean."

With a wink she turned around and proceeded to walk the short distance we were away from "Sebby's" party. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Sherlock visibly shake his head and slightly his body at the previous proximity of him and Irene. I bit my lip to suppress the laugh that was threatening to escape my lips and Sherlock didn't take notice, his focus now on what Irene was saying to the doorman. He was a large, muscular, African American man who wore a gray suit and held a clip board in his hands.

"Name?" he asked Irene in a deep voice.

"Irene Adler. I'm Sebastian's plus one."

He checked the list briefly and then allowed Irene in. As we started to walk up with her, the man stopped us.

"Who are you two?"

Sherlock was about to speak up before Irene cut him off, "They're my guests."

"Guests aren't allowed to bring their own guests."

"Well," she said moving closer to the man, looking at him in frustration, "Why don't you go tell Mr. Moran that you didn't allow Irene Adler's guests in. See what he would say to that. I would imagine he wouldn't say anything at all but he would…act on it. If you know what I mean," she whispered.

The man looked down at her, anger visibly running through him. After some sort of internal admittance of fear and defeat the man gestured for us to proceed.

"Thanks," she practically spat out to him.

She went to leave him on the stoop furious but she turned back around and whispered to him again, "Oh and don't think I'm not going to tell Sebastian about your incompetence."

**BOOM! I call that a cliffy yes! Don't worry Irene won't tell on the guy (that would blow their cover!) It just seemed like the last sentence was kinda a creepy threat so I had to point it out. The doorman is modeled after the awesome actor Michael Clarke Duncan who was in the Green Mile and the Finder. He shared the same birthday as me (December 10th) and he was an awesome actor I loved him lots! He died this year in September so that was like a mini tribute to him. Anyways a new chapter will be up a lot sooner than last time (again I'm very sorry about that. I feel like such a git lol) so don't fret. Leave a review and tell me why you love me (I mean my story. You can say why you love me though) I also used my first page break line thingy so tell me how proud you are of me ;D**


	29. The Assassin and the Woman

**OMG! I know I'm such an ass! I promised all of you an early chapter but nopers I had to not do that! Geez I'm so sorry! Excuses you ask? My bro who's in college came home and I hardly see him, I've been sick for like four days (sniffling right now actually), and I got the Assassin's Creed 3 game and I've been addicted. Plus I draw thinks so. Review replies! (Not gonna lie, but Wanted Dead or Alive just came up on my iPod!)**

**Rocking the Redhead-Thanks for the review! I'm glad you like it. I even fangirl a bit when I write haha!**

**Empress of Verace-Hello lovely! I love when people make John call him/think that Sherlock is a giant man child so I couldn't resist lol! See you soon! ;D**

**Aviatress- OMG *hugs* thank you! Wow I'm so jealous! No I haven't read it, but I've read A Study in Scarlet! I've just seen others call him Sebby so. Thanks for the review! See ya later! ;D**

**AdaYuki-Short and simple works lol! I'm glad you like it!**

**FieryStars-Wow thanks! I still have hope haha!**

**darleehart-OMG wow! You just made me squeal histerically and roll around my twin bed and then fall off no joke! So muck love goes out to you! Just went on your profile and saw I was your only favorite story and author! Now I know how high your expectations are and I'm very grateful you think of my fanfic so highly. I look forward to your love and critiques! ;D (BTW it wouldn't let me put the "." in between darlee and hart idk why)**

**And now for what you are all here for... THE STORY!**

Irene Adler's POV

I always loved making a good threat, especially ones you say to frighten someone but never fulfill just to keep that person scared and on high alert. Those are the best kind indeed.

With the lovebirds behind me I strolled into the large and crowded room. I was surrounded by sophistication; men dressed in the blackest of suits and women in the most elegant dresses I've ever seen. Like Sherlock, I could see things about other people, but only in their attire. Dresses that have been worn more than once, ones that have been bought off the rack instead of at a boutique or made for them specifically. Those facts told you the person's financial situation, but more importantly, their taste and their personality. Sure, I wasn't as sharp as Sherlock, but I still feel I bring something to the table.

I walked further into the room, looking for Sebastian Moran. He said he would wait for me in the middle of the room under the giant crystal chandelier that he was oddly very proud of. After a long minute, I finally spotted him. There he was, sitting on a large Victorian style armchair drinking whiskey and looking out right bored with everyone around him. His eyes met mine for a brief moment, looked away, and then locked on mine again. A warm but menacing smile spread across his lips. He stood up and swigged down the remainder of whiskey in his glass. Setting his glass down greedily on the coffee table next to him, he stalked across the room. I looked behind me briefly to see where the others had gone off to and thankfully they weren't still behind me. Molly was sat at the ivory colored bar her back to me and Sherlock was standing next to her sipping on a glass of wine. His eyes scanned the room and when his eyes meet mine, he gave me a reassuring wink and returned to talking to Molly. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous. This night could go in a million different directions and a million of those situations would end up badly.

I turned back around just in time to see Sebastian end a conversation with a young and handsome brunette man that looked up at him as if Sebastian had authority over him. Sebastian gave the man a hard squeeze on his shoulder before he dismissed him. I took the liberty to walk over to him now. He greeted me with a tight smile and a long kiss that grew deeper as he wrapped me in his arms, his hand slowly moving down my back. I grabbed his hand, breaking the kiss and looked up at him sweetly.

"I would rather take this upstairs, wouldn't you?"

He gave me a knowing look that even in my profession, disgusted me. With a grotesque noise that I couldn't even define as a grunt of satisfaction, he gripped my upper arm and led me across the room towards the stairwell. I looked behind me once more. Sherlock who was whispering to Molly with a hand placed reassuringly on her shoulder, he met my gaze and brought his index finger up to his ear, tapping it to notify me that he was listening in now.

Realizing that I wasn't giving him my full attention, Sebastian gave me a hard tug on my arm, forcing me to take notice of his already demanding presence. He smiled down at me even more menacing than before and slapped my arse hungrily. I taunted him with my finger, motioning for him to follow me up the stairs. I had a nagging sensation, somewhere deep down inside me, that made me feel sick just being around the man. To be honest, I slept with Sebastian on numerous occasions. I had no problem with sleeping with dangerous men, but now, I couldn't shake the thought. Not to sound childish, but he was quite disgusting. He was a good looking man that kept his hygiene in check, but he drank too much, he had a disgusting attitude when it came to sex, and he would become extremely angry if he didn't get what he wanted, if you know what I mean. I tried to end our connection a while back, but he threatened me. He told me that with one phone call, he could spread a nasty and graphic rumor about me and end my business for good. He didn't have to tell me what he would say, seeing as there is only one way to stop a dominatrix from having any more clients.

I had been in the White Lotus before with Sebastian and the way he was leading us, wasn't where we had usually went. If my memory was correct, he was leading me towards the back stairwell that led to the alley.

I stopped, causing him to turn around with anger fuming in his eyes, "Sebby dear, I thought we were-"

I was cut short, when Sebastian pulled me roughly into his body, his hands gripping my arms tightly, his lips kissing mine fiercely. Before I knew it, he was pulling my hair back, a knife at my throat that seemed to come out of nowhere.

This was where I started to panic, "Seb-"

"Don't Sebby me, you whore."

"Wha-"

"Do you really think we're that stupid? Moriarty and I have been watching you, Irene. You're really quite idiotic. Going back to Sherlock and that little pathetic woman whatever her name is."

I felt like punching him in the nose just for saying that about Molly. Sure I refer to her in the same degrading way, but she has proved over and over again, that she's the exact opposite.

"What are you going to do to me?" I whispered angrily under my breath.

So many things, sweetheart. Just you wait and see."

With that he pushed me forward, the knife digging into the skin on my throat, blood seeping down my neck and staining my dress. This was the moment where I was actually thankful that Sherlock had made me wear a listening device. If only he got to me in time.

**MAJOR CLIFFY I CAN'T LIE BIG BUTTS! wait... what? Anyways, I hope you appreciate Irene's POV because it was kinda out of my zone. Devious things are in store my lovelies! It's kinda hard to get a beta reader but I was wondering if anyone out there had a friend or you yourself was a beta. If so contact me through PM. A lot of my family has been asking when I'm gonna end my fanfiction. My response you ask? "It will live on!" Literally my response! I seriously never wanna stop lol! I felt like there was something else I wanted to say but hey! ~Mel**


	30. A Bad Feeling

**Yeah I am back so soon! I think it's mostly because this is shorter and kinda a filler but I think its because if the great feedback I've been gettin lately so thanks for the drive guys:**

**AdaYuki- THANKS! Here's your early update. Glad ya like it! ;D**

**Rocking the Redhead- Haha thank you! It'll live on through you guys3**

**Empress of Verace- Haha I know I just felt bad. Thank you dear! Looking forward to your feeback, love! ;D**

**FreeSpiritSeeker- Wow thanks! I appreciate your love for my fic! ;D**

**Aviatress- Thank you! Yeah AC3 and all other ACs are like my gamer life right now lol! Aww thanks! I smile when I see your reviews as well!**

** - Thanks, dear! It was kinda strange in her POV but it was a good (probably) one time thing. I just started doing it and I like when people call me Mel instead of Melanie. I love that name Melody. Let's just say we knew each other in a different time and named the character after me but only slightly different, eh? Oh it's no problem! ;D**

**Story time. Get your juiceboxes and settle down in your beanbags. (Would be really cool if you had a bean bag and a juicebox/juice and actually read it like this- I challenge you)**

Sherlock's POV

"Are you alright Molly?"

Her hands were shaking slightly as she raised her drink to her lips, trembling lips. Slight perspiration on her brow, occasional movements in her seat of discomfort.

"I'm fine," she said setting down her glass but not releasing her tight grip on it in fear of watching as her body betrays her. I cautiously took the glass out her unsteady hands and set it behind me. She immediately entwined her hands together, nervously twisting them meticulously.

"Molly-"

"I'm fine," she said a bit louder, sitting up straighter, with an attempt at a voice of confidence. It didn't work. Her voice wavered slightly and she looked away. I was about to try to comfort her in some way before she turned her head back down to look at her twitching hands.

"I'm sorry, Sherlock. It's just-"

"You're nervous. It's perfectly understandable."

She agreed with me as she nodded to herself and looked up at me finally. She looked at me for a long while. I couldn't tell if she was thinking about how ridiculous my top hat was or actually thinking about something significant.

"Are you nervous, Sherlock?" she finally asked.

I put my hand on her shoulder. She instinctively put her hand on top of mine and rubbed at my knuckles with the pad of her thumb like I would do for her.

"Like I said before, Molly," I planted a kiss on the top of her forehead and stood up again, my hand still on her shoulder, "Constantly."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the Woman and Moran heading for the stairs. The Woman had just looked back when I looked up and her eyes found mine. I daren't let go of Molly so suddenly, so with my other hand, I tapped my ear to indicate that I was listening and she'd be safe. Even from across the room, I could see her expression soften slightly. Just at that moment, Moran pulled on her arm roughly that even made me mad to witness. Molly had noticed my grip on her shoulder slightly hardened and she saw my other hand, that was now at my side, clench and unclench in anger.

"Sherlock?" she asked, and followed my gaze across the room. They had just disappeared before Molly had turned around and I let go of her, walking slowly across the room. Molly got up after me and grabbed my hand, forcing me to turn around.

"Sherlock what is it?" she questioned again, worry in her eyes.

I looked behind my shoulder briefly, and then turned my head back around to look down at Molly again.

"I have a bad feeling about this."

I took her hand in mine again and led her across the room, hurriedly pushing people out of our way. Sure, I got some feedback from the disgruntled drunks and rich socialites that would probably have me on their hit list at one point, just for bumping into them, but that isn't what matters right now. I stopped at the foot of the steps and lent up against the wall as I turned the device on in my ear, sending annoying frequency and then coming out clear as day.

"_Don't Sebby me, you whore."_

"_Wha-"_

There were clear signs of distress in her voice.

"_Do you really think we're that stupid? Moriarty and I have been watching you, Irene. You're really quite idiotic. Going back to Sherlock and that little pathetic woman whatever her name is."_

I looked down at Molly now my grip on her hand tightening ever so slightly. She noticed this and made me lean down so she could put her ear next to mine and attempt to hear the conversation.

"_What are you going to do to me?" _

_So many things, sweetheart. Just you wait and see."_

There was a small shriek of pain and the ruffling of clothing against the listening device. He had hurt or injured her in some way. Molly eyes flooded with intense fear and she made to go up the stairs and rescue the Woman in some way but I caught her by the arm before she could get anywhere.

"No, Sherlock let me go!" she cried, music and chatter droning out her pleas to anyone but ourselves, "Irene's in danger! We have to help her!" she said trying to break free from my grasp.

"Molly. Stop it," I said pulling her to my side, wrapping my arm around her waist protectively, "Mycroft's men are on him."

I reached up to my listening device once again that I had turned off just moments ago, and pushed the in case of emergency button that alerted Mycroft and his men. Commotion could be heard upstairs, as the men came out of their designated rooms and started searching anywhere for her, just as we had made it up the long spiral staircase. The Woman was nowhere to be found.

**BOOMY! BOOMY! BOOMY! CLIFF! CLIFF! I don't know I felt like doing that. ACCEPT MY CHALLENGE ABOVE!...please... ~Mel**


	31. Processing

**Hello party people! I'm really sorry for being really late with this. My internet was legit down for four days! I was going fricking insane gah! Anyways, I must respond to your lovely reviews:**

**Empress of Verace- Haha sorry I'm silly sometimes geez! Thanks for the review dear! Irene will be fine, duhhh!**

**Rocking the Readhead- Thanks much! I thought it would be ooc if Molly had a semblance of friendliness towards Irene so I'm glad it wasn't!**

**Aviatress- Haha thank you for accepting and conquering my challenge young grasshopper. Calling me Mel was cute thanks!**

**FreeSpiritSeeker- WOAH! Watch your language there! Haha just kidding! Guess what though? I'm a bit evil too ;]**

**AdaYuki- haha thanks for the review! GAH! Glad you like this so much you express through odd noises ;D**

**videogamelover221- Wow thank you! I'm sort of in love with your url for reasons! :)**

**Not sure if any of you read this part, but I was wondering how many times you guys have rewatched the episodes because I've seen every episode 11 time each! I'm a little obsessive I know.**

Molly's POV

In the most simplest of terms, Sherlock was distraught. The White Lotus had been completely cleared out and we were standing, well I was standing he was pacing, in the upstairs hallway. Men with large guns stood at every door and by the stairs to seal off the crime scene. Mycroft was also by the stairs, leaning on his umbrella and looking as worried as a Holmes can for his brother's current condition. I was worried all the same, but there was something deep down inside of me that was jealous. I wasn't jealous of Irene for getting kidnapped, heaven's no, but I was jealous of the unsettling feeling that Sherlock obviously cared for Irene. Who knows how much he really cares. He always keeps the sentiment regarding others inside, except for the ones for John and I.

Just then a hand was on my shoulder and it almost felt reassuring. I turned around, greeted with the elder Holmes brother.

"Hello, Mycroft," I said with a small smile.

"Hello, Molly. My dear brother is acting rather strangely isn't he?" he asked looking at Sherlock now, who was still pacing furiously.

"Yes," I said quietly, my gaze on Sherlock now, "He is."

Mycroft must have noticed the way I was feeling from my tone and that didn't surprise me. He is related to Sherlock after all.

"Do talk to him will you?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"Of course," I turned back to him now, playing with the hem of my dress as a nervous reaction at the thought of talking to Sherlock about his feelings, "but...why won't you?"

"Unresolved issues between us. He wouldn't listen to me. Do make sure he is alright, will you?"

He turned around already knowing the answer and with a swing of his umbrella, he was gone.

I walked up to Sherlock now. His head was down, his hands to the sides of his temple, and was still pacing. I stood in his path and when he turned back around he looked up at me.

"I have to find her, Molly. No one is ever going to go through the same thing you did because of me. I'm not going to let that happen again," he seethed.

"Sherlock listen to me," I said sternly, surprising myself and him from the looks of it. Sherlock heard my seriousness and seemed to give me his full attention as he went to stand in front of me, his hands resting easily on his hips.

"I believe in you and always will, Sherlock."

"Yes Molly I know that. While I appreciate that, which I certainly do, it's not brand new information."

I was surprised at his harshness that he must have realized himself at the same moment.

"Not good?"

"A bit not good yeah," I told him, smiling up at him. He gave back the same sort of smile but I could see something spread over his eyes and fade away as quickly as it came.

He went back to his old self in that moment and all of the warmth that he radiated towards me was gone and with a kiss, he turned back around again and started analyzing the scene of the crime. I knew that he wasn't mad at me, but I realized now that many things remind him of his old life and his friends and John. I could tell it was about John. It was Sherlock' s natural reaction. The mask breaks away for an instant and it rebuilds itself just as fast. I've finally managed to deduce Sherlock. He knows everything about me because of his gift of deduction so why can't I try to figure him out too?

Sherlock knelt on the ground, looking at god knows what. I watched him carefully as his eyes seemed to make a trail that stopped.

He spoke up suddenly and rapidly, still kneeling on the ground, "Size twelve shoe, mark of indentation suggests around 210 pounds. Sebastian Moran, obviously. There's also the Woman's foot indentations but they're hurried. She was being forced to walk on with a weapon on her, but she struggled. She wasn't harmed substantially. No sign of blood anywhere in the room but she tried to break away from his restraint."

Sherlock stood up now and slowly and methodically walked the path he had created. He stopped in front of the wall. He looked at it quizzically, running his hand up and down the intricate wallpaper.

"What are you looking at?" I asked, standing next to him now.

"The trail ends here," he pointed, "It's quite odd."

Sherlock quickly turned around and being the flexible and agile man that he is, dropped to the ground in a push-up position. He got to his feet once again.

"My observation is correct obviously, but the trail of feet indentations ends at the wall. There must be a-"

"Hidden door?" I interjected.

"Correct, yes," Sherlock said as he resumed his position by my side, "Now we must find out how to-"

To his surprise, the wall in front of him moved further into the wall and slid away revealing a narrow hallway with stairs leading down to an unknown location.

"What on earth?" he asked looking to his left, expecting to see me standing next to him. He turned around fully, noticing that I was standing near a bookshelf.

While Sherlock was staring cluelessly at the wall not knowing what to do, I had gone over to the bookshelf and pulled out book after book. One book in particular was title less and snagged when I tried to pull it out. That was when Sherlock looked at me incredulously.

"How did you know to do that?"

"I don't know," I said joining him in front of the opening, "I just thought it was strange that a bookshelf was in a hallway."

He smirked almost proudly at me, "You have odd methods of deductions, my dear."

"I know. If I wouldn't have been here, who knows how long it would have taken you. What would you do without me?" I teased and grinned widely at him.

Sherlock smirked again and kissed me briefly and changed the subject as he took my hand.

"Are you alright, Molly? You were pretty worried before."

"I'm fine I guess. This is all just a lot to take in. Now I know how you felt."

"I missed you every minute, every second. I'm not letting you out of my sight again."

"Don't worry," I said wrapping my arms around his neck, "I'm not going anywhere."

With that he kissed my forehead, feeling the smirk on his lips as he did. With a light hand, he ran his thumb over my cheek briefly. In that moment, I really noticed how much he wished that none of this was happening. That we could just laze about in my flat all day, together and alone and safe. No one in the world but us and his friends is all he really wants.

As I rejoined reality, I noticed that my arms were no longer enveloped around Sherlock's neck and he was no longer standing in front of me, but walking down the hidden stairs purposefully with a gun at the ready.

I quickly joined in behind him, the stairwell too narrow for the both of us to walk side by side.

"Sherlock, do you think you're going to need that?" I whispered.

"Well, seeing that you're whispering suggests that you aren't exactly sure either what is at the end of these stairs. Which seems to be coming up soon."

Sherlock reached backwards, gun still trained ahead, and grabbed my arm pulling me behind him even more. Sherlock put both of his hands on the gun as we turned the corner at the end of the stairwell. He whipped around the corner quickly, ready for anything. Sherlock was visibly relieved to see that the corridor ended simply at a door. He tucked the gun back into the back of his trousers and opened the door that to my surprise, wasn't locked. It opened to an alley and there were no wandering eyes and it broke off to other alleys and back ways throughout the city. The fact that it is almost the perfect place for something like this made me sick. When I turned back around, Sherlock was crouching by a garbage bin, talking to someone. A homeless man from the looks of it. He was wearing raggedy clothes and was holding a fine silk handkerchief to his head, blood soaking through it. I ran over immediately, worried for the injured man.

"Oh my goodness what's happened to him?" I asked Sherlock as I knelt on the cardboard he was sitting on as he allowed me to take a look at his head wound. Sherlock was about to speak up before the homeless man cut in with a deep rumbling voice.

"I'm alllright miss. A PRAT," he emphasized, "only hit me ower the head. It'll heal," he hiccupped.

I was surprised at his behavior and how calm the man was after such an event, but just then I noticed the copious amounts of alcohol bottles around him and the smell of it radiating off of him.

"What did you get hit by?" I asked, standing up and rubbing off the dirt that stuck to my knees.

"I dunnn know," he slurred, "Ih was sumething hard though."

I looked over to Sherlock and he looked up at me, us both realizing the man would be of no help in the state he was in.

"Was there anything else that your attacker said or did?" Sherlock added.

"I think he lef this on me" the man held out his shaking palm and Sherlock took the note out of his hand. He stood up and unfolded the note. His jaw hardened as he read on and the homeless man took the opportunity to pass out.

If only I knew what the note had said.

* * *

_You needed to die, Sherlock Holmes. You should have died on the pavement like Moriarty and I envisioned. We were going to do so much with you gone, but you decided to live. So we have a proposition for you. The whore is safe for now, but someone needs to take her place. So the world can either go without the great consulting detective or the oh so brave pathologist. Do you love her Sherlock? Do you love her enough to give up your life for her or are you going to let her die for you? We all know she would gladly sacrifice herself for the man she loves. I'll leave that decision to you. -SM_

**BOOM! Yes that is a major cliffhanger! I didn't know it was going in that direction but hey it gives me some ideas... Muhahaha! It's my birthday on the 10th so a gift to you guys will be another chapter! ~Mel**


	32. A Quarreling Couple

******Hey ya'll! I figured I would post this today so I could get home after school and be presented with some lovely reviews for my birthday! You ain't complaining I bet haha! I got nine reviews last chapter I was so happy AHH! Shall I respond? I think I shall...**

**Aviatress- Thanks! Haha don't forget how to use your words, Av! I wouldn't get your lovely reviews then!**

**magicstrikes-Yeah it's pretty bad. I think we aLL BELIEVE IN SHERLOCK! haha!**

**Zora Arian- Haha thanks! Oh no, that's okay! As long as you keep reading haha! Yes I like writing despicableness, it brings out my evil ;D UH NO! IRENE BLEGH! Sorry for the mix up haha! Thanks for the cake. I will eat my b-day cake and think of you! :)**

**Empress of Verace- Haha believe me I was going insane lol! Looking forward to your birthday wishes love ;D**

**Rocking the Redhead-Ah yes good deduction my lovely reviewer. I am the cleverest of them all and would never use the word cleverest because its a petty and childish word. I'm sorry, I turned into Sherlock for a second what were we talking about again? ;D**

**FreeSpiritSeeker- Ooh yes. This shall be interesting... muhahahaHAHAHAHHAHAH- *cough* *cough***

**AdaYuki-Thank you! I'm just going to mention how much I love that you start all your reviews with LOVED IT! It's great haha!**

**Nat- Haha thank you! I know that feel bro. Thanks for saying I don't drag on like others. That means a lot! When's your birthday?! Maybe I might post a new chapter when your bday comes around to celebrate!**

**Guest- Haha oh no that's fine! Sorry, but this was my deadline haha! I'll update more often because of schoolwork dying down and christmas break coming up so expect more sometime soon!**

Sherlock's POV

"Absolutely not!" I shouted for quite possibly the fifth time in the last minute.

Molly was about to yell something back at me, her face reddening in anger, before she was so rudely interrupted by a few hard pounds to the wall from the room next to ours. Our hotel was expensive but it seemed they didn't spend too much time or thought with the insulation between spaces.

Molly rolled her eyes briefly, catching me off guard before she spoke, much quieter than she had previously planned to.

"Sherlock, I can't let you go ahead and let yourself get killed."

I had told her what was written on the note addressed to me that I had gotten from the homeless man in the alley. While I didn't tell her...everything... that was on the note, she got the gist of what was really important to the investigation. I left out the part that said it was either me or her. One of us had to die and I'd be damned if someone is put in danger anymore because of me. Besides, aren't I supposed to be the metaphorical knight in shining armor? I seem more like the damsel in distress if you ask me, but this wasn't the time to refer to petty fairytales.

"People depend on you," she continued, "Even when you're assumed to be dead, people still need you. You don't know what would happen in this world if it went on without you. From my point of view," she said her voice wavering," My life would mean nothing without you, Sherlock. I can't let you do this," she pleaded, trying to keep the tears from spilling over her eyes. What she doesn't realize, is that the people I care about would be better off if they never even met the great Sherlock Holmes. What even makes me great anways? All I do is get the attention of bad people and put more lives at stake due to my ignorance.

Molly was hugging her arms around her waist and she looked like she was about to faint or breakdown completely or shout.

I truthfully didn't know what to say or what to do. Do I comfort her and tell her that I won't leave her? Or do I break up with her now to save her the heartache? That, after all, is what I did when she was dating Moriarty. I thought it was the nice thing to do. I couldn't. I can't. The feelings for me would always be there. It would kill her inside and to be completely honest, it might do the same to me.

I turned away from her, running my long hand over my face and then through my hair in frustration. I must have looked completely lost. She sat onto the bed lazily and laid back almost carefully, her arms still wrapped around her waist. She curled her legs under her and turned away on her side. She looked as if she was going to be sick. Molly was so empty inside and I don't know why I wouldn't have expected her to act this way. I really had no idea how she was going to take it. She was so brave. What's happened to her?

I inwardly kicked myself as I realized why. Sentiment.

I heard a short and muffled sniffle from Molly, who was trying to conceal it as best as she could. I shook my head absently after I set the top hat on the side table next to the bed and shed myself of my shoes and my dress coat. I sat down on the edge of the bed cautiously.

"Molly, please," I whispered.

I saw her wipe at her face behind her hair and she sat up, her legs dangling off the end of the bed, not touching the floor. She realized that she didn't like how close we were sitting next to each other so she scooted away slowly, but not as far as I thought she would. Good. That means she doesn't hate me completely.

"Molly, you have to understand-"

"Sherlock, I think I need you to sleep somewhere else tonight," she said suddenly with an air of confidence.

She looked up at me now, dry trails of tears staining her cheeks.

"I just don't think I can sleep next to you knowing that you think I have to understand and be fine with all of this. I just can't," she said weakly her lower lip quivering slightly.

"Don't be-"

"I'm going to change for bed. You should do the same." she finished the conversation and stood up from the bed taking off her shoes and searching for her nightclothes.

After a frustrated sigh she asked me, "Sherlock?"

"Yes," I asked, hopefully.

"Can I borrow a shirt? I forgot my nightclothes," she asked almost shyly, still not looking at me in fear she'd lose the confidence she was trying to hold onto.

"Of course."

Honestly, I didn't have any other clothes. We had only planned to go to the party, stay overnight, and go home the next morning in the clothes we were wearing on the train.

I reluctantly took off the shirt I was wearing and held it out for her. When she turned around I could hear her breathe in a quick gust of air before she grabbed the shirt from my hand and retreated into the bathroom, her cheeks reddening fiercely, but not closing the door until she took another glance at my bare chest. I smiled as she finally closed the door and started for the bed that looked as comfortable as mine back in London, before I remembered Molly's words and turned around again and flopped onto the couch. It was quite uncomfortable when I turned onto my back and the leather stuck the skin on my back but I wasn't going to complain about it in front of Molly. I knew that we would work it all out in the morning.

Molly opened the door of the bathroom slowly and shut the lights off inside before she closed the door. She hugged her arms around her waist in the same fashion she did before. I couldn't help but notice how my shirt was tight around her chest and several inches above her knees.

Molly noticed that I was staring at her and quickly ran to the bed and her view of me was cut off by the wall. She pulled the cord of the lamp and the room was in total darkness. I waited for a good five minutes to see if Molly would tell me goodnight, but that moment never came. I could hear her soft and steady breathing in the quietness of the room and I let my breathing fall into pattern with hers. My last thought before I fell asleep was this:

Molly looked very sexy in my shirt.

**BOOM! Cliffy yes, Cliffy no? Ahh its relationship issues so I say YES! Oh Sherlock you nasty! I couldn't resist really. I had to make her borrow his shirt. Hello, opportunity knocks!**

**Thanks for all of the early birthday wishes! I turn 15 this year! EXCITED CUZ MY MOMMA THINKS I'M MATURE HAHA! She's wrong... ~Mel**


	33. A Nightmare From Hell

**Here's the 33rd chappy! Sorry it took such a long time. I would explain myself but it's 4:30am and i'm tired so :P Shoutouts? I think yes...  
**

**Zora Arian- I know right?! haha! I bet she would yes ;D Just wanted to point out how cute your Sherlolly one-shots are. Thanks for the entertainment!**

**Rocking the Redhead- Haha thank you! I'm sorry I'm so slow in updating! :/**

**MorbidbyDefault- Haha you're very enthusiastic! Sorry I don't update as often as you want! But oh my god you wrote Ginger Midgets! That is one of the best fanfictions I've ever read! I never thought I would fangirl over a person on the internet that I don't even know but omg you are so famous what are you doing here with little ole me?! 3**

**Aviatress- Haha thanks so much for the birthday serenade ;D lol parents are so oblivious to our immaturity sometimes. Yeah I'm full of twists if ya know what I mean...**

**FreeSpiritSeeker- Thanks! I kknow right? I couldn't resist an opportunity like that ;D**

**Empress of Verace- I believe you mean Molly looks sexy in Sherlock's shirts but I could be wrong haha! Actually I'm in grade 9 but close enough right! Thanks for the review my lovely ;D 3**

**AdaYuki- Haha you're gonna hate me so much! There's kinda a cliffy at the end so... *awkward side shuffle off of )**

**Story time bitches...no nonnonnooonono! Jus kiddin I love you guys ;D**

Molly's POV

The room was pitch black. I felt along the walls trying to find a door or a window; anything that could help me escape. I didn't know where I was but a strange and overwhelming feeling riddled me and I had the urge to escape the ominous room. A soft whimpering sounded throughout the room as I turned around. There was someone sitting in the middle of the room, only there silhouette visible. Her limbs were visibly limp and blood was pooled around her feet that were bruised and broken

"H-Hello? Are you alright?" I asked, stepping forward cautiously.

The next thing I heard was a verse repeating and overlapping continuously;

"If there is a serious injury you are to take life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burn for burn, wound for wound, bruise for bruise."

I backed into the wall suddenly and found the corner. The verse was playing through my head over and over again. It was unbearable. The walls were closing in around me. The whimpering woman was screaming now. I dropped to the ground and pressed my hands to my ears as hard as I could. None of the sound was blocked out. It became louder and louder. An all too familiar chuckle rang in my ears. The last comprehendible thing I could understand throughout the noise was advice that I would never take.

"Can't you see what Sherlock is? He isn't human. He's a monster. He hurts people. He hurt you. You need to keep your distance if you want to live. You may think you love him now, but you won't love him when he gets you killed or worse, hurt. Living after you're hurt is worse than dying because you still have to live with the memories and you still have to live in a world that he's still living in. You must keep your distance."

In an instance a bright piercing light shone in the now miniscule room. I crossed my arms in front of my face and closed my eyes as tight as I could. The light on my skin felt like acid slowly burning away at my body. I screamed and when I tried to stop, I started laughing. It was a devious chuckle that wasn't even my voice. It was as if I was being possessed by something that thought all of this was funny.

"Molly?!"

I could hear someone calling my name frantically.

"Molly?!"

I felt as if I was being lifted out by the calling of my name. In a flash, the light intensified and died and I woke up in a panic. I sat up quickly, grasping for Sherlock. I had forgotten his side was empty as my hand felt the cold sheets hurriedly.

"Molly are you alright?"

I looked up now and Sherlock is standing over the bed, his face full of worry. I could tell that he was trying to hold back his feelings. Sherlock's hands were balled into fists at his sides when he would have normally been holding my hand or caressing my face soothingly.

"Sh-Sherlock?" I murmured as I sat up in the bed. Sherlock sensed my uneasiness and sat on the edge of the bed cautiously putting both hands on either side of the bed around me.

"Are you alright? Can I get you a cup of tea?" he insisted.

I simply nodded my head, and in a moment he was up and in the small hotel kitchen filling the kettle up with water. A small sliver of light danced across the sheets as the curtains were being moved around by the air vent. It was much too cold to have it on and I got up and turned off the air with the wall switch. I had forgotten that I was still in Sherlock's shirt that was tight around my chest and high above my knees. I unbuttoned the top two buttons, not to be promiscuous, but to try and pull the shirt farther down my body and cover up my legs. It worked some, lessening the gap by a couple of inches but the collar was now flared out a bit too suggestively. I gave up on the shirt entirely and wrapped Sherlock's dressing gown around my body. I soundlessly slipped into the kitchen and sat at the table, my hands nervously entwined with the other in my lap. Within a moment the kettle began to whistle and Sherlock took it off the stove and poured two cups. He stood behind me as he place my tea carefully on the table in front of me. As he walked around the table, he rested his hand on my shoulder briefly before he sat down and took a sip of his coffee; black, two sugars.

"I didn't know you could make your own coffee," I stated nonchalantly trying to avoid the topic at hand. He plays along, knowing I don't want to talk about it.

"Of course I can," he smiles a wide smile.

"Then why ask me to do it all the time?"

"Because you are so much better at it than me," he admits.

Well that's a first," I murmured before I took a sip of my tea. I immediately regretted it, finally finding out how awful he is at making virtually any beverage. I place the cup back onto the saucer and prod the plate with my finger pushing the nasty drink away.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asks incredulously, leaning further in his seat and setting his cup of coffee down in his saucer.

"I'm sorry...I didn't mean that..." I confessed. I didn't think that entirely. I knew that I was better at things than Sherlock and he was better at things than I was. I also knew that I had only said that because I was on edge. Because of the dream-no nightmare, Irene, our fight, everything.

"Molly, are you alright?" he asked worriedly, "You're acting quite odd."

"I'm fine," I said in an undertone.

Sherlock had had enough. He got up from his chair and took his cup and mine away. He must have noticed my distaste for it. Before I knew it, He was kneeling on the ground beside my chair squeezing my hands pleadingly.

"Look, Molly. I know you aren't too happy with me right now but you must understand this. I need to know what's bothering you because I care about you and I can't let you keep it to yourself when I could be doing something to help you. Now please," he insisted. He seemed to be doing that a lot with me lately; insisting.

So I told him all about my nightmare and how I was feeling. About all of the stress, worry, anxiety, and all of the other unpleasant emotions you could possibly think of. When a tear had started to roll down my cheek, he soundlessly caught it with his thumb warmly as he sat on the corner of the table. He listened intently never interrupting and never roaming me with his eyes in means to deduce. Sherlock locked eyes with me the entire time and not once looked away. I felt like I was such a burden. Like I was whining like a teenager. But once I had started to talk, everything began to spill out of my mouth like a waterfall. Old things had come up. I had talked about John, about the first day we met, our first date, everything that was besides the original topic. It felt as if I was talking for hours. To be more precise, I had talked for two and a half hours as I noticed it was nearly ten thirty in the morning.

Sherlock simply took my face in his hands and kissed me and hugged me tightly as I sobbed lightly in his shoulder, showing me that he fully understood what I was feeling.

And then his mobile rang and a new level of hell began.

**BOOM! Oh my I am so sorry. I'm kinda the epitome of Satan so you guys should have expected this...Anyways, I might update on Christmas as a gift to you guys if I have the time but I can't make any promises srry! I've asked this before but I need a beta reader ( yeah I should've gotten one sooner) and I need ya'lls to message me if you or a fellow friend would accept ****beta-ing my story...? Pwease?! kthanksbai3**

**~Mel**


	34. The Burdens We Carry

**Hey ya'll! I'm sorry I didn't update on christmas like I said I would. I had a lot going on with my best friend and to put it simply, she was thinking about suicide. She's fine now and we had a lot to discuss so my mind was somewhere else for a while. How about shoutouts?!**

**magicstrikes- Don't be worried I won't do anything rash! Thanks for the review and thanks for being here since the beginning! :D**

**Empress of Verace- Haha yeah I can make another level! Sorry I accidentally turned on my Moffat for a minute there... Well Sherlock being sexy in his own shirts is kinda obvious so that's why I got confused. I mean c'mon of course he is I mean Benedict. STAHP Benny! Ugh I have two days left of break *sobs* Thanks for the review, love! 3**

**Aviatress- Nah it's fine! Haha thanks for thinking it was brilliant! Lots of love :D**

**MorbidbyDefault- You are so famous I'm like your stalker let me love you! Jus made it awkward... Thanks so much Meg love you too! Ahh! (shes talking to me *faints*)**

**Zora Arian- It's aight! Yes it is. Or is it? Sorry my Moffat is showing. Yes Loo Brealey could turn me gay if I had the chance haha! Your fics fueled my need for Sherlolly fluffiness and adorableness! thank you lots! ;D**

**FreeSpiritSeeker- Oooh really?! Yay! So do I just pm you the next chapter or what? PM me soon so we can chat, k? Thanks for the review as always!3**

**AdaYuki- Signature "LOVED IT!" always lifts my spirits thank you! Sorry for not updating ugh!**

**Rocking the Redhead- Are you grumps? You seem grumps. Here have a cake. Thanks for the review anyways haha!**

**GET THE TISSUES MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH AHEAD.**

Irene's POV

"Let me outta here you little prat!" I commanded, my voice hoarse with lack of moisture and my English accent coming through strongly in contrast with my usually regal and sophisticated tone.

There was no response, just silence. It had been like this ever since I was thrown onto a mattress in the corner of the vast room and chained to a pole by my ankles two nights ago. I had no idea where I was and the room was as cold as ice. My whole body was shivering, even my collarbone and the brace on my ankle dug into my skin with every passing moment. It was like an itch that no matter how hard and long you scratched at it, it never went away. Despite the temperature, my hair stuck to my forehead with sweat and grease from the absence of hygiene. My fingernails are broken and bloody from trying to relieve myself from the chains adorning my legs. My hands were tied tightly with a zip tie and would chafe horribly whenever I tried to break free. I hadn't slept for even a minute, fearing that something would happen to me when I was sleeping. My eyelids grew heavier more and more and I wanted to sleep so badly but I know I couldn't. My limbs were physically limp with exhaustion. I don't know how long I can endure this torture. I know what Moriarty and Sebastian can do to people. I know what Molly has gone through. She was actually tortured, while I myself can't even handle being starved and left alone. I could hardly make out the large window adorning the wall on the other side of the room with the dim lighting in the space. Just as I looked at the window and harsh crackling of radio interference sounded throughout the room and made me jump in fright, my eyes now alert.

"Hello, Irene," he proclaimed loudy with a small, devious chuckle.

I didn't give him a response.

"The silent treatment, I see. You are just like little Molly when I took her. She didn't want to play with me either," Moriarty added, his voice dripping with as much innocence as he could fake.

"But she was much, much stronger than you obviously. She even gave me a battlewound. You won't do that though. You're just a coward."

"I'm the coward?!" I questioned angrily, "You're the one talking over a sound system and not facing me like a man!"

There was a long pause and I thought he may have left, before the crackling of the speaker made me jolt for a second time.

"On your head be it, Adler."

I could hear a door creak open, shoes fall in, and the slam of the door on the other side of the room. I couldn't see who it was but it came closer and closer meticulously. Under the small light bulb dangling from the ceiling appeared Moriarty—alongside Sebastian Moran. Now this isn't very fair, now is it?

"Hello, love," Sebastian hummed as he smacked his gum against his teeth loudly, "Ya miss me?"

I still refused to respond to either idiot.

"When do you think you'll get out of here, Ms. Adler?" Moriarty asked while squatting down in front of me. Placing his elbows on his knees and putting his face in his hands with a large grin spread across his face, he looked too happy.

"Not too soon I suspect," Sebastian chimed in, placing a hand on Moriarty's shoulder, "Sherlock won't come for you."

"He's right," added Moriarty as he stood up, "Sherlock has Molly now. He's happy with her don't you see? He won't give up their happiness for you. A casualty in the battlefield that is Sherlock Holmes. The war is over for him. He has the option to fly away from this with his girlfriend or come back for you. But we all know that 'no man left behind' shit doesn't play when you have a future with someone. 'Why would he risk coming back for me?' you may ask. Because Sherlock Holmes doesn't seem to like when people die when they don't have to. _Especially," _he enunciated, "When it's his fault."

"Should we call him up," asked Sebastian to Moriarty.

"Oooh!," he proclaimed excitedly, "I think we should. Let's even put him on speaker phone."

"THOMAS!" Moriarty barked.

A young, muscular, blond man came into the room hurriedly and handed him a mobile phone. Clearly Thomas was very afraid of his boss.

"You can leave now," Moriarty murmured annoyingly.

Thomas scattered out of the room with a low thud as he closed the door behind him. As Moriarty flipped opened his mobile, Sebastian came towards me with a piece of duct tape in his hand and covered my mouth with it before I could struggle with him.

"Wouldn't want your pretty mouth interrupting our conversation now would we?" he chuckled.

With a hard squeeze on my chin he left me literally speechless on the stained mattress to hear my fate unfold in front of me.

Sherlock's POV

I reluctantly released Molly from my arms but still held her by her side as I answered my mobile. I expected it was Mycroft.

"Hello?" I asked boringly, as I sighed heavily knowing it would get Mycroft in a mood. Molly had stopped crying a few moments ago and her hand was placed lightly on my chest, her other gripping my shoulder as we stood side by side. The voice I heard next was not what I had been expecting.

"Hello, Sherlock! How's my lovely little couple doing? Did you get Sebby's note? Have you told Molly everything?"

"Yes I have. What do you want Moriarty?"

Molly's hand shot up to cover her mouth in surprise and the content smile that was once adorning her face turned into that of a frightened puppy.

"We both know that's not true," he sang with an innocent laugh.

"What. Do. You. Want?" I asked my voice getting higher with anger.

"You know what I want, Sherlock Holmes," His voice serious now, "I want you on a platter. I want you under my knife. I want to rip your life away with my bare hands and burn Molly's heart in the process. I want to _end_ you, Sherlock. I want to see you afraid for your life."

I broke away from Molly and walked into the living room, "If I do this, will you leave Molly, Irene, and everyone else in my life alone?"

"Deal's a deal."

"Sherlock, no you-"

Molly had heard me and raced towards my side, but before she could reach me, I lunged forward and grabbed her around the waist with both arms, the phone still being held. I picked her off the ground and headed for the bathroom.

"Sherlock. Sherlock what are you doing? No. No, Sherlock! STOP!"

I pushed Molly inside making sure she didn't hurt herself when she was released and locked the door on her.

Her muffled yelling could be heard through the wood.

"Where can I meet you?" I asked Moriarty who was waiting impatiently on the other line.

"Belcourt Drive, 12:00pm. You'll get further instructions via text once you've arrived. Come alone. We will be watching you so don't try anything stupid. It's not in your nature."

With that he hung up and I was left alone still unsure about everything. It was such an unsettling feeling; not having a plan and not knowing what my future holds.

"Sherlock please don't do this to me," Molly yelled desperately from behind the door of the bathroom.

"I'm so sorry, Molly, " I said leaning on the door frame, " I have to go through with this. You know I do. I can't let Irene die in my place, I just can't," I confessed, surprised that I had used her real name.

"But, Sherlock what am I going to do? I can help you. I can't… I don't know what to say. I don't want you to go. Why… why does this have to happen to me?"

"I know this isn't fair. I don't want to go either. I never want to leave you alone either. I don't like the situation I've been put in but I have to act on it accordingly. You'll find someone else, Molly. A young man that will love you and has a job that he didn't invent."

"Don't you understand? I know all of that. But what you don't know is that it's always been you. I don't want anyone else, Sherlock. Even when I was in uni and I hadn't even met you yet, I knew that someone like you was going to come into my life and change me for the better. You have. You taught me to be strong and you taught me how to love again. You still have much to teach me and you haven't completed your role in this world yet."

"Are you sure I've changed you for the better?"

"Positive. Your deduction skills are wearing, Holmes. I'm surprised you haven't figured that out yet," she joked.

I looked at the clock on the nightstand. 11:30. I have to leave. Now.

"Sherlock let me out so we can talk."

"I'm sorry, Molly. I can't. You'll try to stop me."

"Would you blame me?"

"Listen. The rendezvous point is Belcourt Drive. There are seventeen- no make that eighteen ways to get out of the bathroom. You're smart. You'll find a way soon enough and when you do; well that decision is up to you. Goodbye, Molly. I love you."

"I love you too, Sherlock. Try not to get killed before I get there. I don't think I'm strong enough to carry you."

With that I decided the conversation was over. I put my coat on followed by my scarf and put up my coat collars to brace the cold outside. But we all know it makes me look cooler. Closing the door to the motel room behind me, I walked down the corridor; I walked to my death.

**BOOM! I told you there was major character death but there wasn't! I trolled you. I'm an under the bridge troll. *gasps from all over the world heard* I'll prolly kill some of the baddies. Most likely Thomas. He's kinda a dick if you haven't noticed! Tehehehe *comes at you like a crazy ass spider* *realizes I can't do that and has multiple muscle spasms***

**~Mel**


	35. A Game of Chase

**Hey everyone! For those of you with a tumblr, there's a Sherlolly week going on so you should check it out! (my tumblr is the same name if you were wondering) Now to respond to your lovely reviews!**

**magicstrikes- Haha i'm 15 so no i'm not drunk! Although i do like to act like it sometimes...yeah. You are amazing thank you so much! Happy New Year to you as well. Thanks for being here since the beginning too! ;D**

**MorbidbyDefault- Haha sorry but I did! Aww thanks lovely! Yes you are _shut up. _Really cause I make everything awkward? Thanks so much bby!3**

**Rocking the Redhead- Haha I'm sorry that I did that to you! gah! Nice to hear from you! Happy New Year to you too! :)**

**Aviatress- Yeah my style's way more cool and chill. Except for those times when i talk about crazy ass spiders and trolls! xD I won't ever announce character death (and I won't be killing anyone important) shh! Don't tell anyone else! xD**

**Empress of Verace- Haha I knew that that was a bad idea! Sorry about that! Yeah it doesn't hurt to talk about sexy men ;) Aww thanks so much for your nice comments and concern! She is doing better! I hope there are more people out in the world that care about people that they don't even know like you do. Great to talk to you as always, my lovely! ;D**

**AdaYuki- Haha I'm so sorry about that! I won't do it again I swear! Thanks for the update as always! :)**

**FreeSpiritSeeker- Haha thanks I try! Thanks a lot for the review! ;D**

**ALERT: THERE IS NO CHARACTER DEATH IN THIS CHAPTER! (maybe)**

Molly's POV

"Eighteen bloody ways?!" I asked to no one but myself, exasperated at the situation I was in. Five minutes had passed and I had gotten nowhere and my attempts were futile. I never would have imagined being locked in the bathroom by my boyfriend. What was he thinking? I'm not as smart as he makes me out to be.

I sat on the closed toilet, defeated and worried all the same. I rested my elbow on the sink's countertop next to me. After a long, irritated sigh I looked to my left at the messy assortment of items on the counter. The powder pink of my cheap razor stared back at me. I still sat there clueless, and I did for another five minutes surveying my surroundings for anything that could let me out of this crappy motel room. Actually it wasn't that bad; the bathroom I mean. It actually was nicer than mine is back in London. Oh how I missed the comforts of my own flat, my own bed.

My eyes fell back on the damned razor when the idea hit me like a hurricane. I bolted up, hitting my hip into the corner of the counter in the process. I forgot about the throbbing pain that arose and scrambled for the object. After slamming it repeatedly against the marble surface, the pieces that encased the blades cracked. Thankful that I hadn't clipped my nails for quite some time, I pried the pieces apart hurriedly, chipping off the dark purple polish that adorned my nails in the process. I held one of the dull bits of metal between my thumb and forefinger. Kneeling down on the tiles, my fingers fumbled with the blade, unscrewing the screws slowly and carefully. After an entire minute, one screw clanked across the floor, spinning in circles. Another two minutes passes and finally the second screw fell to the ground, my fingers sore from turning the blade in the tedious circular motion. With a final yank, I held half of the cold doorknob in my hand. The other half fell with a thump onto the carpet on the other side of the door. Pulling with one finger in the empty opening, the door opened soundlessly.

I proudly stood there for a moment before I realized why I had been locked in the space in the first place. I ran to the coat rack, slipped on my fitting brown trench coat and warm moccasins. Not bothering to lock the door, I sprinted like a madwoman down the corridor and took the stairs. We were only a few stories up and if I would have waited for the lift, I would have gone berserk. I bounded down the steps two at a time; it was far more difficult while going downstairs than it was upstairs. Jumping down the last four steps and almost falling on my ass, I once again broke out into a run, almost smacking my face on the revolving doors. I hailed a cab within minutes.

"Belcourt Drive," I commanded.

"Alright, alright lady. Don't get your knickers in a twist," the cabbie muttered, pulling the car back out into the busy streets of Bristol.

"I'm sorry," I apologized as I would do regularly whenever I was late for work and cranky from sleep in the morning. As far as my boss knew, I was on a holiday with my boyfriend which was partially true.

I sat back into the wearing seats of the cab, not being able to do anything at this point besides bounce my knees up and down in anticipation and anxiety. The only thought I had the entire ride was this; What if he was dead already? Sherlock could be dead right now, his already cold skin becoming colder with every passing minute. I had seen Sherlock with the look of death before and it had almost brought me to tears even when I knew he was still alive. I scolded myself as I thought the cheesiest thing you hear in romance novels and films; I don't know how I'll live on without him.

"Hey, lady. Get out!" the cabbie yelled, "I've got bills to pay for!"

I fumbled out of the car and tossed a ten note at the man who seemed to be having a bad day too.

"Thanks! Have a nice day," I yelled behind my back as I was already speed walking down the sidewalk.

Sherlock's POV

Walking down the busy streets of Bristol, I came to a stop under a street sign entitled, 'BELCOURT DR.'

Just as I had begun to look around for people who were wandering in the crowd, my mobile vibrated in my pocket; I had hardly felt it due to the thick fabric of my Belstaff coat. I rummaged around in the deep pockets and held the black mobile in my slender fingers. Going to the messages link, a small green one stared back at me from an unknown number. I clicked with the pad of my thumb and read the message:

_Buy a newspaper from the blue machine behind you. While you do so, grab the mobile phone taped to the bottom of the machine. Wait for further instructions. –M&S_

I did as the commands had told me to do, and powered on the new silver burner mobile in my hand; it was considered to be untraceable, but not for Mycroft who had traced phones for me in the past, for a price of course.

As soon as the mobile came to life a message sounded with the song "Staying Alive." I refrained from rolling my eyes as I read the message:

_Dump your phone and walk four blocks east. Stop at the bench and sit down. Wait for further instructions. –M&S_

I looked around briefly, looking for lingering people but mostly looking for a lingering Molly. The instructions never specified where to dump the mobile, just to get rid of it. I set my mobile on top of the newspaper machine, hoping that someone wouldn't steal it. It was a busy day and no one was paying attention to the others around them. It wouldn't be stolen.

After a final look around there was still no Molly in sight. As I started to walk four blocks east, I wondered if I had made it too hard for her to escape. I hadn't realized that Molly had just turned the corner behind me.

Molly's POV

As soon as I saw Sherlock walking away, I sat down at a bench and waited until his billowing coat became a blur in the bustling crowd of people. I slowly walked in the same direction, stopping under the street sign that said 'BELCOURT DR.' I was about to follow after Sherlock once again before the midday sun gleamed on something a few feet in front of me. After waiting for a young couple to pass, I walked the few extra feet and saw what it was. I picked up shockingly Sherlock's mobile and read through the last texts he had received. They were from an unknown number, undoubtedly from Moriarty and Moran. Panic quickly set in. How am I supposed to find out where Sherlock was told to go next? How was I supposed to help him? I couldn't just stand here and wait and hope I'll see him again, alive. I willed my mind to try to think like Sherlock's would. He left me his mobile for a reason. He knew I would be able to still help him after having to switch so I had to think of the big question. How?

The idea practically back handed me across my brain. I looked through Sherlock's contacts, which only added up to five; John, Lestrade, Mycroft, Mrs. Hudson, and me. I called Mycroft.

"Yes Sherlock what is it now?"

"H-hello. It's Molly Hooper."

"Hello, Ms. Hooper what can I do for you?"

"I need your help. Sherlock's in trouble and I need your resources."

"What has he gotten himself into now?" asked Mycroft sounding exasperated.

I need you to find a burner mobile," I stated while avoiding the question, "You are able to do that if I'm not mistaken."

"Yes I am, Ms. Hooper. What is happening if I might ask?"

"I'm sorry, Mycroft. There's no time. I really need your help. Your men can't help either. They aren't exactly reliable if you haven't noticed."

"Yes I have noticed that. Very well, Molly. Do give me a moment will you?"

"Yes of course."

With that Mycroft clicked off on the other end and I was left to bounce around in the cold and wait. My nose was becoming red and my heavy coat still didn't supply the warmth I desired. I twirled my hands around nervously in front of me. After two minutes, Mycroft finally called back. I scrambled to put the mobile to my ear.

"I have located the burner that Sherlock has received for reasons you refuse to tell me of."

"Great. Where is he?"

"The burner was sent text messages from an unknown caller. The first text instructs to walk four blocks east, stop and sit at a bench, and wait for further instructions."

Once Mycroft had told me of the four blocks, I started to run like a madwoman down the street, bumping into people and apologizing afterwards. I finally came to a stop next to the park bench that was exactly four blocks away from where I had started. Hoping that Mycroft was still on the other end, I put the mobile back up to my ear.

"Where to now?"

**BOOM! Muhaha! I tried to troll you again hehe! You guys obviously din't fall for it though so. I'm sure Molly could have gotten out of there way easier but that was the only way I could think of in comparison to Sherlock who know eighteen ways (sigh smart people) I hope this whole thing is believable and I hope that you guys don't think my story is just dragging along. No ones ever told me that but I still fear that that's what some people may think. This chapter was supposed to be beta-d by FreeSpiritSeeker but our emails were stupid and decided that they wanted to be on their periods.**

**~Mel**


	36. I Am No Hero

**Hey all! I know it's been a while so hello I missed you guys! Time for some shoutouts huh?!**

**Zora Arian- Haha I think I'll say that now! MY FOOT! Haha thanks so much for the review! Ahh I love that line so much! Thanks ;D**

**Rocking the Redhead- Haha I think you mean Mycroft not Nycroft lol! THanks so much for the review!**

**Empress of Verace- Thank you so much! Haha I'll never hurt my bbys! They will ALWAYS be safe. Thanks for the review, love 3**

**AdaYuki- Thanks so much for the review! I believe this chapter will satisfy your need haha!**

**Aviatress- Aww thank you so much, love! I hope this chapter makes you happy! ;)**

**FreeSpiritSeeker- Thanks so much, hon! Love you lots! 3**

**Brook- Hello person! You should think about joining our lovely site! I'm glad you like my story!**

**What you've been waiting for:**

Sherlock's POV

I had just received my next instruction from Moriarty and Moran. I walked another five blocks north and came to a door on the side of an unnamed building with graffiti that uttered so many ugly and disturbing things. I carelessly twisted the knob and walked to my death. If I actually made it out of here alive I'd look back and take pity on how ridiculous I had been acting. But at the moment this was the way I would be and it felt right. I'm not a hero so I shouldn't act like one. Some may consider dying for your friends, now twice, is heroic. But in all honesty, heroes just don't want anyone else to die when they could have prevented their demise. Why should another person die because of me? You could look back and name a hundred people that did just because I wasn't as quick to conclusions as the knife or the bullet or whatever the hell they died of was. I didn't care anymore. I just wanted this fucked up game to end. I wanted it to end with one fatality and one only; unless Satan decides he wants his demon spawn that comes in the form of Moriarty back in his lair. That would satisfy my dying wish. To have the shitty little bastard dead so he couldn't kill or even _touch_ anyone ever again.

My anger grew more and more with every instruction I received. _Walk this way, wait here, do this._ It was all so tedious and boring and unnecessary. My last request came in.

_You've arrived, Sherlock. Sorry there's no tea to welcome you like you did so kindly to me all those months ago. It's been so long. We need to catch up don't you think? Head up the stairs on your right and drop the weapon you are obviously caring on the top step. Go through the door on your left and we'll have a nice chat. All three of us. Poor Irene is a bit unconscious right now. –M&S_

My hand clenched around the mobile tightly, the knuckles on my fingers whitening. I wished I could break it under the hard compression but I couldn't and pocketed the mobile. With long strides, I cleared the vast amount of stairs in a matter of seconds and set my pistol on the top stair. I had realized the urgency of the situation and burst through the door.

Irene lay slumped over on a ratty mattress. In the dim light I could make out the split in her lip and the cut on her eyebrow growing to her forehead. But what stood out the most was the large, deep gash across her thigh. I immediately raced to her side, kneeling down before her. I sat her back gently up against the wall and tended to her heavily bleeding leg. As I wrapped my scarf around her wound and tightened it she woke out of her unconsciousness and scrambled away from me with a fright.

"Irene no. It's me. Sherlock," I pleaded with her as I held her by her forearms. Her scared eyes looked up at me through her greasy, wet hair and they softened ever so slightly. Pain and suffering and fear still riddled beneath her blue irises. She suddenly came to the realization of her injury and gasped horrifically as she applied pressure to her thigh. Her hands shook and her teeth chattered together hurriedly and I stood and took off my coat and wrapped it around her small frame as I kneeled back down.

"Sherlock what are you doing here?" she asked through gritted teeth as she dealt with the searing pain and rested her head on the wall behind her.

"I came to take your place. Now let's get you out of here."

"Not so fast," A deep rumbling voice sounded throughout the room.

I stood up swiftly and turned around, standing in front of Irene defensively. In the corner of the room there were two pairs of polished black shoes. The figures, Moriarty and Moran stepped into the light.

Moran had spoken and continued, "We have agreed to let Irene live and we will stick by that-"

"But we aren't letting her leave without a show," Moriarty added as he finished the other man's sentence gleefully.

"That was never part of the deal," I hissed angrily, "She doesn't have to go this too. Let. Her. Go."

The two men looked at each other and laughed briefly.

"No," muttered Moran.

"You aren't the one to call shots here, Sherlock. You have no power here. You're defenseless, don't you understand? There's nothing you can do to stop the hell that will rain down on you and the people you care about," Moriarty added as he put his hands in his pockets.

"If you try anything, anything at all, We will kill the whore and your lovely little girl," Moran threatened.

A flash of a shadow passed across the window of the door I had entered through. I knew it was Molly and I knew she had my gun in her hands. She's never shot anyone and she doesn't want to ever kill anyone but hopefully her mind will change now.

"You two are so insufferably moronic," I said never looking to the door and giving Molly away, "I won't try anything. I won't let anyone else get hurt in my place. Clearly you don't know me as well as you thought me out to be. Doing this won't make me a hero or a victim. This is all my fault. If I wouldn't have chosen to make up my own profession, none of these people that I care about would even know me. That would be a hell of a lot better than what it is now. I'm so completely and utterly done with your bullshit, Moriarty. And Moran," I directed towards him, "You're the sniper that was set to kill John and from my deductions, you have met him before. Maybe he even patched you up before. Saved your life a couple of times too if I'm not mistaken which I never am."

Moran visibly swallowed, hard, realizing how deceiving and cold and calculating he had become.

"This disgusting cycle of death and suffering needs to end and it's going to end here and NOW!" I yelled.

In a flash Molly erupted through the door. Her gun trained on Moriarty, she stood for a moment both of the men standing motionless in confusion. She took a deep breath and fired the weapon.

Just as fast, Moran jumped in front of Moriarty the bullet lodging deep into his stomach. He stood for a moment holding his hand to his belly. He had been shot before and he welcomed the pain that came afterwards. Moran collapsed onto the ground and Moriarty caught his head before it could smash onto the hard ground. They didn't have any guns on their person; they wanted to torture him, not kill him quickly.

It was then that I turned my attention to Molly. She still held the gun trained in her hand on the men slumped on the floor. Fear and anger and disgust showed through her eyes and her expression. Tears stinged the corner of her eyes and her hands shook violently. I raised my hand and slowly took the gun out of her grasp. She turned to look at me and she wiped her tears hurriedly.

"Sherlock I-"

"I know, Molly. You did what you had to do."

I pulled her into a tight hug and she wrapped her arms around my waist just as tight. I smoothed her hair down with my hand and kissed the top of her head before whispering, "Thank you for saving my life."

"You'll never be alone, Sherlock," she breathed back.

"I know."

"You still have to be all lovey dovey over there? I'm bleeding you know!"

Molly immediately broke away from me and rushed to Irene's side. She may not have studied to be a doctor but she had the most experience so I left her to tend to Irene. I pointed the gun at Moriarty. He was still cradling Moran's large frame in his arms. He was whispering to him, their foreheads pressed up against each other. Blood sprayed across Moriarty's cheek as Moran coughed it up. In a minute he would be dead. They were clearly more than accomplices together. There was something else there. Love.

I hadn't realized that an evil man like Moriarty could love another human being. I felt a tang of sorrow for the man who was now quietly blubbering into his lover's chest. Moran's face was pale, his eyes glazed over with the cadaverous film that came with death. He was gone and so was Moriarty. He set Moran's head back onto the floor slowly and stood, head slumped forward. Tirelessly he lifted his head to look at Molly. She was staring back at him with fury and guilt in her eyes.

"You…" he said slowly. "You…stupid…bitch!" he yelled.

Out of nowhere he switched open a knife that was concealed in his hand and lurched forwards towards Molly. Before he could get to her, I grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. He wasn't as quick as he used to be and the knife clattered to the floor. I was tempted to shoot him in the back of the head. Kill him now and everything will go back to normal. But then something came to mind.

"Where's Thomas?"

Moriarty chuckled weakly, "I killed that sissy. He was too weak and too independent. He didn't take my orders so I showed him what happens when people don't listen. Ordinary people are the worst kind of people. Just like you, Molly Hooper. You were so-"

I had heard enough. I hit him in the back of the head with the butt of the pistol and he fell to the floor, out cold.

Later I would get a call from Mycroft. Moran was confirmed dead and Moriarty was taken to prison without trial.

For now all I wanted was to go home.

"Come now, Molly," I said picking up Irene who had become unconscious once again, "Let's get her to the hospital and then we'll go back to London."

Molly simply smiled and we left as Mycroft had been coming up the stairs with his personal policemen. We didn't say anything to each other, only exchanged glances and nodded.

**BOOM! This was such a fun chapter to write omg! I really like how it turned out and usually I don't. I hope all of this satisfied you guys! This no where near the end of this fic I've been working on for so long so don't freak out! We've still got a long way to go and I'm no where near done with this story I've created. When I was typing out the title of the chapter I almost accidentally entered "I Am No Herp" oh I laughed too hard at this xD Thanks to FreeSpiritSeeker for beta-ing! Thanks so much, hon! Also thanks to the abundance of favorites and follows I got over the week. Hopefully I'll get more reviews from you lovely newcomers! *hint hint***

**~Mel**


	37. I Hate Goodbyes

**Hello all! I had a bit of a writer's surge and lots of time to spare so I present to you chapter 37! Now to give all of you lovelies a shoutout!**

**JG- It does actually! Its a magician's trick and a popular theory amongst Sherlockians. They say that he used the tiny bouncy ball that he was playing with when he talked to John in the morgue. Aww thank you so much! I'm so glad you like it! ;D**

**Zora Arian- Haha I know right! The evil stopped yes (...?!) Actually I'm not sure where that aspect of the story is headed... Haha I am planning on having Irene do something to stir the pot in the stew that is Sherlolly! Thanks for the review dearie!**

**Empress of Verace-Yes that would have been disastrous! I know right, my poor bby Molly! Thanks for the constant love from you, hon! 3**

**JNG- Hello there! Actually it was the part where it said, "Catch you later, Sherlock." "No you won't." like at the end of the pool scene but I switched the roles and added Sherlock at the end. That was a good guess but I did sat conversation! You were actually the only one who attempted a guess in the history of this fic so yes of course you get a cookie have the whole plate! :)**

**AHighlyFunctioningSociopath- Thanks so much for the review! Your username is perfection. *jealous***

**Aviatress****-Haha why is it sad that Moran died? He killed people! Well I guess adding the love between Moriarty and Moran was a sad part. I actually do ship MorMor:'(**

**AdaYuki- Ahh no! You didn't do it in all caps! The WORLD will implode jeez! Haha just kidding thanks for the review darling! Glad that you are LOVING it ;D**

**WhoNeedsTheLimelight- Thanks dear! I haven't but I took your advice and listened to it... it was boss to say the least! Thanks for the review and I hope to see more from you *innocent smile***

**Rocking the Redhead- Haha I hope that's a group of fanfiction you know like kid!lock but this would be baddass!Molly! Happy that you're happy sweetie! ;)**

**lollipop-chan- YES and... awesome people are the best kind of people and you ma'am are one of them! Thanks for the review! I hope to see more from you :)**

**crooney83- Glad you like it! Looks like you didn't have to wait that long! Enjoy.**

**Guest- AWWW thank you bby here have a hug from me! *HUGS INTENSELY* That is so sweet of you to say! I hope to see more reviews from you, you sweetheart:D**

**STORY TIME PEEPS!**

Molly's POV

"I was standing at the reception desk waiting for an administrator to allow us to visit Irene. I looked behind my shoulder at Sherlock. His knees bounced up and down uncontrollably with the odd habit of boredom he could never shake. He was sitting in the waiting room, eyes roaming furiously over people, reading them. God only knows what secrets he's uncovered in a matter of minutes. It must have been a lot; we have been here for over an hour.

"Can I help you?"

I turned back around, faced with a small ginger woman who seemed to like her job too much, as she sat in her desk chair looking up at me with a broad smile.

"Hello…ugh…Cassandra," I said looking at her nametag, "My name is Molly Hooper. I was wondering if I could be able to visit my friend."

"What's the name of the patient?"

"Irene Adler."

The receptionist held up her finger politely for a moment and typed away at her computer. She read through something quickly. I knew how it worked. They would list what caused the hospitalization of the patient on file and if it wasn't an accident, they would hesitate to let visitors in.

"Are you a relative or a loved one of Miss Adler?"

"No but-"

"I am," chimed Sherlock who had come out of nowhere behind me. He put his arm around my waist and continued talking to the woman.

"This is my wife and I'm the brother of Irene," he gleamed with an all too chipper smile plastered across his face.

"Alright, then. She's in room 142. Down this corridor here," she added pointing to our left.

"Thank you so very much, Miss Cassandra," Sherlock smiled once again politely causing the young receptionist to blush as he walked onwards towards Irene's room, his arm still around my waist.

"You're quite the actor," I said looking up at him quizzically.

"I can also cry on cue," he added as an afterthought.

"Am I supposed to be impressed?"

"Maybe," Sherlock looked down at me with a flirtatious look in his eyes.

The room wasn't that far away but we walked slowly in an intimate quiet, feeling somewhat lazy and at loss for words. Neither of us seemed to know what to say about what had transpired. I could still feel the outline of the gun on the palm of my hand. My index finger with which I pulled the trigger with, felt oddly foreign to me. Sherlock noticed my uneasiness and pulled his arm away from my waist and held my hand lightly, somewhat reassuringly.

I entered the room first and our hands broke away. Going to see people in the hospital was always awkward. Especially when you don't have a gift and don't know them that well to give them a hug or a chaste peck on the cheek.

"H-hello, Irene," I said, waving awkwardly, "How are you feeling?" I questioned lightly as I sat in the wooden chair next to her bed.

Before she could put a word in, Sherlock answered for her as he speed-read her chart that was on the end of the bed, "Besides the cuts to her forehead and lip, the only other injury would be the gash in her leg. It says here you lost a lot of blood and you almost…died on the paramedics," Sherlock whispered and bowed his head. If she would have died, he wouldn't have been able to live with himself. I had heard what he said to Moriarty and Moran. I heard the guilt in his voice as he professed the truth in that horrific moment.

Irene lay on the bed, motionless and quiet. Her eyes were still screaming at me, at everything. She wanted to cry, she was going to cry, and she did. I sat gingerly on the bed next to her. I had no idea how to comfort her. I took her hand in mine in a comforting way and to my relief, she placed her other hand on the top and her crying slowly started to subside. I looked over at Sherlock to be greeted with his back. He hated when people cried. I looked back at Irene with a friendly smile.

"How about I get you something to drink?"

"I doubt this hospital has vodka," she joked, becoming Irene once again as the tears dried on her cheeks.

"Tea would be lovely," she added finally.

I stood and left the room to retrieve coffee for her. I saw myself in the same bed, with bruises on my face, broken nose, a swollen eye, and a broken arm. I wished for someone to comfort me at the time and Sherlock had unexpectedly done so. I felt obligated to bring Irene back. Back to earth with us where she could joke and laugh and live safely. Maybe she was stronger than I was. Maybe she won't have nightmares like I did. Maybe she'll walk back into her life like I have never gotten the chance to. I couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy.

Sherlock's POV

I sat in the chair next to Irene's hospital bed. I welcomed the familiar feeling of guilt that came after my actions affecting others. She stared up at the ceiling, a boring white.

"You can be released today," I said casually, "and we'll take you to a hospital back in London."

"What if I don't want to leave?" she asked to the ceiling.

"What do you mean?" I questioned bewilderingly.

She didn't respond and I did understand what she was saying.

"I know. I'm like a time bomb. That's why I keep people at arm's length. This never should have happened."

"You don't do that to all people," she said looking at me now.

"I should though. I should leave people alone. It's for their own good."

"Not in all cases."

She sighed and continued, "I don't want to live in London anymore. I need to go away somewhere. At least for a while. I'm starting to feel like a third wheel," she laughed.

"I understand," I said simply.

"I don't think Molly will," she looked back up to the ceiling again, "I think we've become friends," she said with question in her voice, "She won't be very happy. To be perfectly honest, she's one of the few friends I have."

"I know how that feels," I whispered.

"No you don't, Mr. Holmes. You have plenty of friends. You just don't realize it."

I thought her a fool but then I let the words sink in and I felt a kind of warmth that I hadn't felt before. It was an odd feeling that radiated quickly, sending chills down my spine and raising the hairs on my neck. It was exciting and reminded me of how I would feel after a big case or an injection of heroine.

"When will I be able to walk properly?" Irene asked in the silence.

"A month. Maybe more, maybe less. You did lose a lot of blood and it was quite deep."

She huffed into the air indignantly, "Will you miss me, Sherlock?" she asked somewhat playfully.

I smirked and sat back into the chair, "Of course, Irene," I joked.

She rolled her eyes and looked away which made me wonder. Did Irene have genuine feelings for me at some point? Does she know? I felt slightly guilt-ridden. It wasn't my doing that sprung up the feelings she had/has for me but I couldn't help myself. It was a good that she was moving away. She needed to start a life somewhere else and figure out what she wants to do and who she wants to do it with. _No pun intended, _I thought, even though I smiled briefly.

After a minute had passed, I stood up to check on Molly.

"Sherlock, raise my bed for me, will you?"

"Of course," I said making my way around and leaning down to adjust her bed.

In an instant, her lips pressed against mine passionately. I didn't kiss her back and stood looking at her in shock when she broke her lips away from mine.

"Wh-What was-"

"You owe it to me, don't you think?" she asked flirtatiously.

"Irene, I-"

"Oh don't get your knickers in a twist. It was just a one-time thing. I couldn't have left London without first experiencing that."

"That's an odd way of thinking," I thought out loud casually. I could feel my cheeks burn with a blush. I went to raise her bed again and she didn't try anything to my relief. As I left the room, I wiped my lips on my coat even though she wasn't wearing any lipstick. I heard a soft giggle behind me.

Molly's POV

I carried the medium sized ceramic cup of tea in my hand as I made my way back to Irene's hospital room. Sherlock emerged, looking uneasy and awkward. He saw me and met me half way.

"I'll be waiting outside," he said curtly and continued walking towards the front of the hospital.

"What?" I asked turning around to face him, "Why are we leaving so early?"

"Just talk to Irene," he added over his shoulder and put his hands in his pockets.

I shrugged to myself and turned back around, entering Irene's hospital room. I handed her the tea and sat on the edge of the bed once again. She sipped it greedily even though the tea hurt the split in her lip. Irene set it down on the side table next to her and looked at me, serious.

"What's wrong?" I asked confused.

"I'm moving somewhere else. I don't know where but I just need to get out of London."

I didn't understand but strangely I knew exactly why. As the next few minutes passed, we talked about possible places and what she wanted to do with her life. Irene changed the subject.

"What about you and Sherlock? Where are you headed in the future with him?" she asked genuinely interested.

"I'm not sure. All I know is that we're happy with each other's company and we both love each other."

"Do you want to marry him, Molly? Or have children?"

"Of course I do, Irene. I want that more than anything. I just don't think there's ever a right time to bring up that subject with Sherlock or if he'd even consider it."

"It's hard to figure him out," I added finally.

She nodded understandably. She let me do her makeup, my idea, as a final gesture of what we had become to each other. She was a friend and I wanted to do one last thing for her. I finisher her mascara and I cried a single tear. I hugged her for a few seconds and I left without a word because I hate goodbyes. I wiped the tear off my cheek and I saw Sherlock standing in front of me. He had a sneaky grin on his face, a grin that meant he knew something that I didn't. He didn't mention that he became bored outside and came back in when he was getting too cold and he didn't mention that he heard our entire conversation.

**BOOM CHICKY BOOM CHICKY BOOM BOOM BOOM POW! Hey look over there, its all of my new reviewers running away in terror because they realized I'm SUPER insane! But seriously I got 12 reviews after I posted that chapter and it just warmed my heart! I CRIED GUYS! I can't believe I cried! My mom saw me she's omfg what the hell what's wrong bby and when I told her she rolled her eyes and left me with my tears lol! Feeling the love mom *pouts* I hope that you guys review again and I hope some of you shy people out there does too! Lot's of love to all of you! 3**

**~Mel **


	38. Revelations

**Hey everybody! Sorry about such a late chapter. My best friend Kayla and I saw the Hobbit yesterday and had a sleepover so I was busy. Omg that movie was perfection! Okay time for the shoutouts!**

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**'Aight time for the story ya'll...**

Sherlock's POV

Molly. All I could think about was Molly. _How had I been so stupid?, _I thought as I sat at Molly's small kitchen table nibbling on a piece of toast. In only my pajama pants, I cursed myself for not knowing any better. Of course she wanted to have children. Of course she wanted to get married. Perhaps it would be a good idea. Our child would both be incredibly intelligent like I am and beautiful like Molly is. As for the marriage…I was hesitant. I don't even know the first thing about being a good husband, let alone a good father. I don't want my child to be asking Molly where their father is when I could be dead. The contemplating would have to be reserved for later; Molly walked in and I couldn't tell her that I had heard her conversation with Irene. How would she react? Would she snap at me for eavesdropping? Would she take it back and claim she was just being foolish?

"Good morning, Sherlock," Molly said hugging me around my neck from behind and placing a sweet, loving kiss on my lips.

"Good morning, love," I murmured to her as she didn't move her position. She bowed her head, burying it in my shoulder. She breathed in deeply, smelling me; something that seems to bring her comfort. After a long moment, she released me but not before kissing the very tip of my cheekbone. She preceded to make herself a cup of coffee and a piece of toast, spreading it with butter and sprinkling cinnamon sugar on top. She sat down opposite me. Taking a bite of her toast, she rolled her eyes in pleasure, a small smile playing on her lips; a sentimental meal that she must have eaten with someone she had loved. Her father most likely.

"What are you going to do now, Sherlock?" Molly questioned, leaning forward in her chair.

"Do about what?"

"We've captured," she looked away for second before she spoke again, her voice wavering, "or killed all of the people in Moriarty's web. You're safe to go back out into the real world."

"Quite right."

"That's all you have to say?" she asked somewhat angry, "How on earth are you going to reveal yourself to everyone? Are you going to tell John first? Have you already thought about this?"

"I have, yes. I don't imagine it being that complicated."

"Of course you don't," she said exasperated, "so what's your plan?"

My mind thought back to before the White Lotus and before I had plunged to my death; both times when Molly had asked me the same question. This time, it wouldn't end badly.

"I was going to go to Baker Street, reveal myself to John, and get back to doing what I do."

At this Molly laughed out loud, a kind of laugh when you hear someone say something ridiculous.

"And what is so funny about that?" I questioned, leaning forward over the table, giving her a hard glare.

"You really think that's going to fly Sherlock? John is going to be furious with you. You know what? I bet you ten pounds that he's going to punch you right across the face."

"That's quite a childish wager, my dear."

She raised her eyebrow at me, "What? You afraid you're going to lose?"

"John wouldn't punch me"

"So what do you suppose he is going to do?"

"Pass out."

Molly laughed again, "John is a war veteran. He's seen things that neither of us will ever see in our lifetime. And you think he'll pass out?" she shook her head at me as she sipped her coffee.

"Well why don't we find out right now, hmm?"

Molly almost spit out her coffee. She composed herself, "Like _right now_ right now?"

"That is what I said. Why would I say it and not mean it?" I said as I stood, clearing our plates and her cup.

"Your mind is an enigma, Hooper," I added.

She rolled her eyes and stood suddenly excited while worry still lingered in her demeanor.

"Are you going to be mad if I find it funny if you do get punched?" she joked.

"Absolutely furious," I said casually enough for her to crinkle her face in worry.

I smiled slowly at her and she laughed, slapping my bare chest playfully. A sudden confidence washed over her and she placed her other hand on my chest. She came closer and closer before she pressed herself up against me. She got on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around my neck.

At first I thought she was just going to kiss me, but she put her lips up to my ear and whispered slowly, "I don't break promises my dear boy and I'm not going to break the one I made on the train."

With that she released me slowly, toying with me. She disappeared to her room and I rolled my eyes at her. My heart was racing with lust and nervousness. After a deep breath, I followed her into her bedroom to change. Molly changed in the bathroom while I changed in her room, pulling on one of my everyday suits. She emerged as I finished the last button on my shirt. She wore a simple pair of black jeans and a light purple cardigan and pulled her hair up into her signature ponytail. She hopped on one foot while putting on her flats. Going back into the hallway I assisted her with her brown fitting trench coat and pulled on my own along with that dreaded fedora. I closed the door behind us and we walked down the corridor and rode the lift in companionable silence.

Walking out onto the sidewalk, I hailed a cab and Molly slid inside. With one final look of my surroundings, I slid inside too and closed the door behind me.

"221B Baker Street. Be quick about it," I told the cabbie and he nodded.

My knees started to bounce up and down unconsciously and Molly grabbed my hand and squeezed it reassuringly. I continued to stare out the window, distracting myself with people and cars and buildings. The fact that in just a matter of minutes I could see my best friend made me smile slightly. What worried me was if I could still be his best friend. What if he hates me? What if he never wants to see me again? A million questions ran through my mind but before I knew it, Molly was tugging on my hand. Throwing a ten note at the cabbie, I stood staring at the beloved door that belonged to my home. I would never admit this out loud, but I felt a pang of sentiment for that door. The deep black of the wood and the gold lettering in contrast made it beautiful and haunting in a way.

"Sherlock?"

"Yes, Molly?" I asked looking down at her.

"Do you think I should go first? Try to soften it…" she explained.

"No. I don't want him to yell at you. You can come in when I say."

She simply nodded and we climbed the stairs.

Taking off the fedora and handing it to Molly, I opened the door. I heard movement in the kitchen. Turning the corner, I saw him. I finally got to see him after all this time. His back was to me and he turned around looking at the tea he was stirring. As he looked up, he did the unthinkable. His eyes went wide at first, but he continued to walk into the living room. He sat down in his chair and sipped his tea. I walked slowly towards him and I saw his eyes flicker over my old chair for a fraction of a second.

"John?" I whispered.

He shook his head furiously and held his hand to his forehead.

"John?" I asked louder.

"Stop it, stop it, stop it," he repeated over and over again. _What the hell is going on?_

I kneeled next to his chair and place my hand gently on his shoulder. He shot up out of his chair, dropping the tea to the ground, and backed away from me. His hands were buried in his hair in frustration.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" he shouted.

At this Molly came into the room in a hurry. John looked up at her, confused.

"Molly? Do you see him too?" he asked slowly.

"Of c-course I do, John," she directed her question towards me, "Sherlock, what's wrong with him."

"He thinks he's imagining me."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Molly's hand shoot up to her chest as if it broke her heart to hear that.

"John, I'm alive."

"Molly, what the hell is going on? This isn't funny. You're sick. You're just sick," he hissed at her.

"John, no," she said racing towards his side, "Sherlock's alive. I helped him fake his death. He had to in order to save you and Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade. Can't you see? This is all real, John. Everything's okay."

John looked at her hard and long. He couldn't always tell when people were lying but I could see realization riddle through his eyes. He walked towards me hesitantly, his arm outstretched. He touched my right shoulder and then raised his other arm to touch my left. He gripped me tight, too tight.

"John, I'm so sorry."

And then he punched me. Square across the jaw, his fisted hand collide with my face sending me reeling backwards but not to the ground.

"Fair enough," I said hissing through my teeth in pain.

Thankfully he was a one and done kind of man even though I know I deserved more, much more. Before I knew it, he pulled me into a tight hug whilst trapping my arm that was cradling my jaw. I hugged him back with my free arm. Although I never hugged John before, I could tell that he had lost some weight. He also had large greying bags under his eyes which were bloodshot. As we broke apart I noticed that his clothes were in disarray and not even clean for that matter.

He made coffee for all three of us and John and I sat in our chairs and told him how I had faked my death. Molly sat on the couch, silent.

"It's so great to see you back in that chair. The real you that is…" he added looking down at his coffee. He looked back up at me instantly, worried that I wouldn't be there when he did.

"You've been having hallucinations of me haven't you?"

I could see that he didn't want to admit it. He thought it would make him feel weak but it doesn't. I changed the subject.

"Do you remember a while back when you almost got hit by a car while crossing the street?"

"Yeah but how did you-"

His eyes went wide once again and he asked if it was me with the expression on his face. I simply nodded and he smiled a small smile.

"I thought that man had looked familiar."

"So where have you been all this time?" he asked.

"Molly's. She took care of me." I admitted.

"Are you two…"

"Yes we are," I said leaning forward in my chair, "and I love her. I never thought love could happen to me but it did and I'm so happy with her, John. I've done a lot of bad to her though."

"What do you mean by that?"

"The night of the fall she was kidnapped my Moriarty. She was tortured, John."

John looked over at Molly and looked back to me, "Sherlock did Moriarty-"

"No she was not sexually abused but I feel there's still things she hasn't told me. She had to go the hospital and she was examined and I know she wasn't raped but I can tell that she was still…touched."

"That poor, poor girl," John said, his voice dripping with sympathy.

"I shouldn't have let her get into this with me. She's gone through too much."

"Listen here, Sherlock. She loves you. She had for years before you returned the affection. She will always help you. If she knew what she was getting into she would have still said yes. She will always say yes."

I let the words sink in and I looked over at Molly in a new light.

"John, she had to kill Moran. He was the sniper that was assigned to kill you. She shot him in the stomach and he died right in front of her. He and Moriarty were lovers."

"That's all behind us now thought, right?"

"Yes and I hope it remains that way. Especially since Molly wants marriage and children."

John almost spit out his coffee.

"What? When did you find this out?"

"About a day ago when she was talking to Irene."

"Irene? As in Irene Adler? I thought she was dead?"

"That's a story for another day, John," I said smiling at him.

**BOOM! Not a cliffhanger of sorts but IDGAF! Thank you all for the lovely reviews! I feel so blessed to have so many fans! Sadly I won't become a novel writer because it's not my passion but an artist. Thanks again everyone hope you had a great weekend! Leave a review...please?**

**~Mel**


	39. Confessions

**Hey all! Due to the snow my mom let me and my siblings stay home from school so I had tons of time! Shoutouts to my lovely reviewers!**

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**StOrY tImE!**

Molly's POV

John and Sherlock had been whispering for the past ten minutes. It was now that I realized men keep secrets between each other just as much as women do.

"That's a story for another day, John," Sherlock said smiling.

With that I assumed they were done talking for now. I stood from the couch and placed my cup on the coffee table. I awkwardly lingered behind Sherlock's chair my hands wringing together nervously.

"John. I'm so sorry," I said, looking him in the eye, "I'm so sorry for not telling you when I had the chance. I'm so-"

"Oh, Molly. It's fine."

I didn't believe he would be that forgiving. I could feel the tears stinging my eyes and I looked at anything else but John, trying to blink the tears away. He noticed, of course he did, and he stood. Clearing the space between us, John hugged me in the most comforting way possible. I hugged him back gently and let out a small sob in his shoulder as he rubbed my back with his hand slowly. I'm sure that Sherlock must have been rolling his eyes at me; in actuality, he wasn't.

John didn't let go of me until I didn't make a sound. When he finally did, he still kept his hand around my upper arm reassuringly.

"You're such a brave woman, Molly. From my understanding, you were instrumental in all of this. I'm not even mad at you. All I am is grateful. You brought me my best friend back and I'll always be in your debt."

I couldn't help but smile and maybe even blush a little at such a compliment.

"What about me?" Sherlock asked, annoyed.

"Ah you did just fine, Sherlock. Gold star," John said sarcastically and slapped his friend on the shoulder.

"Would you two like some lunch?" he offered with a smile on his face.

"Not hungry," Sherlock said with a nonchalant shrug, "You don't even cook."

"That's what Mrs. Hudson's for…" John put his hand to his head, "Shit."

"What's wrong, John?" I asked walking towards him.

"Sherlock, you have to tell Mrs. Hudson."

"Must I do it now? I'm absolutely famished. Shall we get take away?"

"Sherlock…" John warned.

"Alright, alright."

Sherlock got up from his chair and made for the door slowly before I stopped him.

"Sherlock, before you go…" I said holding my hand out expectantly.

He looked down at my hand and then back at me, "What?" he questioned, confused.

"Pay up."

Sherlock took his wallet out of his pocket, grabbed a ten note, and placed it in my hand.

"Such a childish wager, dear," he added coolly and pocketed his wallet again.

"What's this?" John questioned as he walked towards us.

"You heard the man. Just a childish wager," I smiled and closed my hand around the note gleefully.

With that Sherlock gave me a peck on the lips, rewarded with a surprised look from John, and headed downstairs.

Sherlock's POV

I knocked on Mrs. Hudson's door. I held my hands behind my back, trying to look as polite as I could.

"Come in!" gave a shout from Mrs. Hudson.

I closed my hand around the doorknob, sighed heavily, and opened it.

Mrs. Hudson had her back to me. She was cleaning up leftover cups of tea, two of them.

"You really shouldn't say 'Come in.' What if a stranger had knocked? We've talked about this before Mrs. Hudson."

With a start, Mrs. Hudson turned around slowly and looked at me.

"Oh my…" she said and put her hand up to her mouth. She gripped the table behind her to keep herself from doing something stupid, like fainting.

"Mrs. Hudson. Are you alright?" I asked worriedly, putting both of my hands on her shoulders gently.

"Oh, Sherlock, I- I missed you so much," she said stepping towards me and taking my face into her hands.

"And I you," I confessed, looking down at her with a loving smile.

Burying her face in my chest, she wrapped her arms around my shoulders and hugged me. Hugging her back I noticed that it felt like it always did. She didn't lose weight and her eyes weren't drooped with lack of sleep. I was glad that my absence didn't almost ruin her life like it did John's.

"Would you like some tea? Can I get you anything?" she asked hurriedly as she pulled away, wiping away tears in the process.

"Actually we were all hoping for some lunch. Would you mind?" I questioned innocently. Who was I to ask her for favors at a time like this?

"Of course, dear. Of course. You go on ahead upstairs and I'll cook something up for the two of you."

"Three."

"Oh, Who else is here?"

"Molly Hooper."

"Ah. Sweet girl. Alright then."

"Thank you Mrs. Hudson," I said giving her a warm peck on the cheek before heading back upstairs.

Molly's POV

Sherlock could be heard bounding up the stairs. As he emerged from behind the doorway he looked down at me sweetly and sat down next to me on the couch.

"Where's John gone off to?" he asked.

"He's gone to take a shower. My orders, of course."

"Good girl," he whispered smirking at me.

_I always loved the way you find out that someone loves you; the skin around their eyes crinkle when they smiles at you_, I thought.

"Really? I've never come to that conclusion before. It's certainly not a scientific fact," Sherlock said, sitting straighter and looking at me curiously.

Realizing that I had spoken the thought out loud, I looked away and blushed.

"Sorry I just-"

"Your eyes do that too. I notice that now. You also speak out loud sometimes when you clearly were only thinking it in your mind. Your pupils dilate, obviously, over 45% larger than their usual size. You sometimes twist your hands around together when you can't figure out what to say. You have so many quirks that are so unique to you. You're one in seven billion, Molly Hooper and that's what I love about you."

I looked at him with a serious face. Slowly I let my lips form into a small smile, "Is this your version of flirting? God awful," I joked.

"Pardon me?" he asked looking exasperated.

I laughed at him and pushed a curl of his hair away that was out of place.

"I'm just joking with you, Sherlock."

"I never understood why people kid others. It's so unnecessary."

"It's just a bit of fun. That's all," I said, letting my hand remain on the back of his neck.

"What are you playing at?" he questioned warily.

"Nothing," I said inching closer to him and swinging my legs over his lap, "I'm just happy."

"Not as happy as you wish to be."

I stopped playing with the hair on his neck, "Sherlock how could you say that? Of course I am."

"No you're not. I heard what you and Irene were speaking of at the hospital."

"You eavesdropped. Sherlock, I- I just…"

I couldn't finish my sentence. I didn't know whether I should be angrier than I was nervous. I stood hastily, pacing a bit. I wrapped my arm around my waist, propping my elbow on it and placing my hand over my mouth. I was scared that if I removed it, I would say something stupid or cry or yell at him. All of the words in my head jumbled around and couldn't make a clear sentence. I was so completely out of it that I didn't hear Sherlock get up from the couch or the first time he said my name.

"Molly? What's wrong?"

"I just-I. I don't…" I never sounded more unintelligent in my life.

"I want to."

Looking up at him, his expression was genuine.

"You have to say it out loud," I said quickly.

"Why?"

"Just do it for me, Sherlock. Please."

He looked away and sighed. Walking towards me, he held me lightly by my upper arms and looked me in the eye. He looked at me with such love. Finally I picked up one of his skills; I noticed almost instantly that his eyes dilated, the iris becoming smaller and smaller around his enlarged pupil. My heart beat loudly against my chest and I wondered if he could hear it too. My hands felt sweaty and my ears felt hot. A yearning somewhere deep down inside me needed him to say it and to say it now.

"Molly. I love you with all my heart. I'd be honored to call you my wife and honored to call you the mother of my child. I can just imagine it now," he said laughing, tears forming at the corners of his eyes, "I don't know which I'd like first, a boy or a girl. Definitely both," he added, "Molly, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to grow old with you. I never knew I wanted this until you came along and all of this feels so right. Look at me. Feeling things. Isn't it exciting?" he asked gleefully.

I held my hand to my throat in disbelief. So many tears had rolled down my face and I didn't even notice; I didn't even care for that matter.

"Sherlock?" I asked slowly, pulling him closer to me by his shirt collar.

"Yes, Molly?"

"Are you sure this is what you want?"

"More than anything," he said softly.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face into his strong chest. His arms slid around my waist. I used to always love the way he would hold me. Now it felt like it meant so much more; like he was hugging me for the first time.

"Molly, will you grant me the privilege and be my wife?"

"Of course I will," I said hoarsely, my voice apparently forgetting how to function, "I will. Always and forever."

**BOOM! So I sorta made myself cry when I wrote Sherlock confessing at the end here! Geez it made me happy like so super happy I cried! Sorry *awkward side shuffle* Thanks to FreeSpiritSeeker for being my beta! Love you sweetie!**

**~Mel**


	40. A Very Long Night Indeed

**Hello all! I love having this writer's surge and all this extra time asdfghjkl; Thanks to everyone who reviewed. Shout out bitches! (you're not bitches I love you!)**

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**STORY!**

Sherlock's POV

I couldn't help but stare at Molly over the table as we ate our lunch. I imagined that I was making things awkward, seeing that Molly was trying to direct her attention to John as they talked while my glare remained on her. I sat across from her as I poked my fork at the peas on my plate. John sat on the same side as her, turning himself in his seat to speak to her properly. Mrs. Hudson had brought up the meal just as John had been getting out of the shower. After a quick chat with Molly, Mrs. Hudson told all of us that she had a doctor's appointment for her hip and left. I was bored, tired, and not even hungry. My second cup of coffee wasn't even tasteful; I would have preferred Molly making it more than I would John. Smacking my lips with distaste, I pushed the cup away from me. I leant back in my chair and crossed my arms.

"Sherlock?" John asked, rousing me out of my stupor.

"Yes, John?" I questioned, sitting forward in my seat.

"Molly's told me you proposed."

"Yes I did. Your point?"

John laughed, "Well, congratulations! When did this happen?" he inquired, a large, proud smile plastered on his face.

"While you were in the shower. Quite a big affair really. You missed out."

"He's lying," Molly said with a short laugh, "It was small and intimate and perfect. Everything I ever hoped for and more."

Looking over at Molly, I couldn't help but relish the adorable smile on her face and the slight blush that came across it.

"That's…well sweet, Sherlock," John grinned over at me.

"Oh, don't get your hopes up, John. I still dislike the simple minded and people in general."

"Well there's the Sherlock I know," John said and sighed, "I certainly never imagined waking up this morning and finding you alive," he looked at Molly, "and well I see. Thank you Molly."

"I do owe a lot to you as well, Molly. It is truly never-ending," I said smiling at her sweetly.

"Please, you two stop it. Seriously, you're making me blush," Molly gushed and laughed. I simply smiled while John laughed heartily in unison.

"I'm so sorry boys," she continued, "but I have to go to work in an hour and I should really be getting back to my flat."

"Not a problem, Molly," John said as she stood.

"Here let me clean up-"

"Oh, no. I can get those," John stood taking the plates and cups to the sink.

"Thank you, John. Lovely seeing you."

"And you," John replied and kissed Molly warmly on the cheek.

Molly smiled back at John and made to leave but was hesitant. _Oh that's right_, I thought, and got up from my seat at the dining table. I walked Molly to the door, holding her hand.

"What time do you get off work?"

"Ten. Why?"

"Because I was hoping to stop by and…"

"Oh," she giggled, "That's right. Um, well I'll see you then won't I?"

"Just don't tire yourself out, my dear," I purred.

Laughing again, Molly wrapped her fingers around the lapels of my suit jacket. She pulled me down to her slowly and planted a loving kiss on my lips that made me yearn for more and more. Before either of us were satisfied, a low wolf whistle called out. Pulling away from Molly, but not completely, I turned my head to see John leaning against the doorway of the kitchen with a large knowing smile on his lips. Molly reluctantly let go of me as I let go of her and she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, an embarrassed blush rising on her cheeks. I noticed her lack of comfort and spoke up.

"Molly, you mustn't be late for work."

"Oh, yes of course," she stammered, "Goodbye, John. Sherlock," she said and quickly retreated down the stairs.

"No goodbye kiss then?" John joked, sitting in his chair with his laptop propped up on one knee.

"Oh, do shut up, John," I retaliated and sat down in my chair opposite him.

After a minute of excruciatingly boring silence and the repetitive typing and clicking from John's laptop, I finally made conversation.

"What have you been doing in my absence?"

John closed his laptop and set it aside, "Well I got my job back at the hospital. I've been living here all this time. As you can see I didn't move anything. I still had hope."

"What about your social life?" I inquired, ignoring the touchy subject of how he still thought I might have been alive while no one else did.

"I haven't gone back to therapy ever since Ella suggested some anti-depressants. I don't have many friends at work although I still talk to Sarah every now and then. I did meet someone though."

"Who is she?"

"Her name's Mary Morstan. She's a neurologist at the hospital and I went out for coffee with her about a week ago. I should have mentioned that I have another date tonight but it never really crossed my mind."

"How well do you know her?"

"Sherlock, she's not a murder or a psychopath or anything like that. She's an amazing person. She volunteers at the cancer wing and cheers up children who just came out of remission. Not only that but she has a son who's two years old. I think she's safe, Sherlock."

"I had to ask. I'm sorry."

"It's alright. I understand."

"Are you fine with that then? With her having a son?"

"Well there's nothing I can do about it," he laughed, "I can't change that and I'm fine with it. I won't give her up just because she has a son. I won't do that."

After a short minute, John continued, "What about you, Sherlock? What's your view on children."

I sighed deeply before answering, "I think somewhere deep down inside of me, I think it's a good idea. But it's not. When my son or daughter gets old enough to speak, they'll ask Molly where their father is and I might not be there to jump out from under their bed and tickle them. Or something like that…" I finished coolly.

"You obviously have thought about this before," John observed.

"Well of course I have. Do you even fathom how extremely intelligent our child would be?"

"Nice to see that you're still modest as ever," John said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "Don't worry, Sherlock. I won't let you get killed. Not on my watch. I just got you back and I'm not losing you again."

I groaned childishly, "I need a case to take my mind off of all of this seriousness. I haven't had one in such a long time and I just… need one!"

"Yes and to do that would mean that you have to ask Sally Donovan. She's taken over Greg's job. The last I heard, he was passing out parking tickets."

"Do you know how sick I am of repeating my entire story? It's so tedious and boring. Don't worry about that. I'll get him his job back."

"Oh, get over it, Sherlock. You'll find a way to trek through it like you always do."

"I've got to get ready for my date," he continued, "I'll see you later yeah?" he asked getting up from his chair and already making to retreat towards his room.

"No. I'll be at Molly's," I told him, trying to lift the hesitancy out of my voice but failing.

"Do you need, ah…protection, Sherlock?" John asked awkwardly, leaning on the hallway wall with his hand.

"No I've got my own thank you," I replied curtly.

With that John went into his room and shut the door. I myself, stood from my chair and put on my coat and wrapped my scarf tautly around my neck. It was three in the afternoon and Molly didn't get off of work for another seven hours. I could go see my Mycroft and talk to him about when I could reveal myself but I didn't feel like seeing him at the moment. Having nowhere else to go, I grabbed my fedora, bounded down the stairs, hailed a cab, and went to see my fiancée.

Walking down the bright corridor of St. Bart's, I came to the door of the morgue. Turning the cold handle with my hand, I opened the door. Molly was sitting in my seat looking through the microscope.

"Hello, Molly," I said quietly.

She gave a slight jump and looked up, "Oh, hello sweetie. What are you doing here?"

"Don't call me sweetie. It's not the right word."

"Would you rather have me call you sweet-cheeks or cutie patootie?"

"Of course not."

"Then I think sweetie is perfectly fine for you. Don't you think?"

"Yes, love. It's perfect," I said and wrapped my arms around her waist, kissing her neck. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her rolling her eyes at me, "Are you going to answer my question?"

"John had to get ready for his date with some woman named Mary and I didn't have anything to do so I came here to see my gorgeous fiancée."

"Don't play with me, Sherlock. I have work to do," she blushed.

"When would you like to finalize our marriage?" I asked, sitting next to her but letting my arm remain around her.

"You mean like a ceremony?"

"Yes of course a ceremony what else would I be referring to?"

"Alright, don't get tetchy," she said slapping my chest playfully.

"It doesn't have to be a big affair. Something private with friends."

"Great. Mycroft won't be coming then."

"AND family. It's really sad that you don't consider you and your brother friends. I'm grateful that I have a good relationship with my siblings."

"I didn't know you had siblings."

"Yeah a brother and sister. Matthew and Morrei. Matthew's forty with twin boys, a widow and Morrei is 35 with a husband in Iraq."

"Your mother liked M then I assume. You're the youngest I see. The baby of the family as they say."

"I hated being called the baby of the family. You are too aren't you?"

"Yes. Mycroft's ten years older than me."

"Would your parent's be attending?" she asked, getting up from her seat and pulling on latex gloves.

"I imagine only my mother. My father would disapprove."

"Why's that?" she questioned, and started to work over a corpse.

"My father wouldn't like you. No offense, but he wished for me to marry someone in government as a sort of modern day arranged marriage."

"Well that's disappointing to hear."

"It may be for you but not for me. He never approved of anything I did even if I tried my hardest."

"I'm sorry about that, Sherlock."

I chose not to respond. I didn't want to delve any further into the touchy subject that is my father. I remained silent for the next two hours. I studied cultures and different slides under the microscope and when that became boring, I walked over to Molly who was just starting her second autopsy.

"Would you like any help?"

"Sherlock, I can't let you perform the autopsy with me. It intrudes upon to many violations."

"I know that but I can help you with cause of death."

"Fine just don't disturb me too much."

"Now that's going to be a problem."

"Oh Sherlock," she said pretending to sound exasperated, "This is going to be a very long night."

"Yes. Yes it will, Molly," I purred and gave her a flirtatious wink.

**BOOM! There won't be a sex chapter I assure you. I'm 15 and that would be weird lol! Thanks for the lovely reviews to you all have a great day! ;D**

**~Mel**


	41. The After

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Molly's POV

_Sprawls of grass rustled beneath my feet. I was standing in a field that stretched as far as I could see. The blades of grass tickled my bare feet as I walked. I was wearing a white dress; it made me appear as if I was as delicate as a thin piece of glass. A sudden wind whipped back my ponytail from my shoulder. I could hear something coming closer but I couldn't quite place what it was. Listening, I finally registered the sound as a soft giggling almost as if it was a child's. I turned towards its origin. Two shapes were forming as they came closer; one much taller than the other. Unconsciously, I walked towards it. The masses formed into a man, the other a little girl. Running now, I hoped that this dream was in fact just a dream and not a nightmare. The figures in the distance were walking but not appearing to come any closer. As I sprinted my legs grew tired and my lungs began to heave with exhaustion. I collapsed to the ground, hard, onto my bare knees. Putting my head in my hands, I began to cry for reasons I wasn't quite sure of._

_A warm hand fell lightly onto my shoulder. I looked up hastily, met with the face of Sherlock. His lips curled into a heartfelt smile and he looked down next to him. He held the hand of a little girl, about five. Her dark and unruly brown hair whipped around playfully. Her eyes were large and a lovely hazel; brown with sparks of blue and green. She laughed and held onto a single finger of Sherlock's hand._

"_Hi, Mummy."_

* * *

I woke up with a slight gasp. I wiped the already dry tears from my cheeks. I tried to sit up but felt a strong arm around my waist. I turned around in the bed and came back to reality when I remembered both Sherlock and I were completely naked. I felt the sudden urge to break away and conceal myself with clothing. I rolled my eyes at the thought; I'm an adult and I don't need to cower away. _He's seen everything after all, _I told myself and blushed involuntarily. I took the opportunity to turn around in Sherlock's grasp, covering up with the duvet in the process. When he was up before me, I could sometimes feel him studying me as I slept, touching my face lightly with his fingers. Reaching up, I cupped his face in my hand. I traced my fingertips lightly over his cheek. I tucked a curl behind his ear. He stirred slightly and snuggled closer to me. I refrained from making a sound, scared that he would wake up and I wouldn't get to have my fun. He slept on, his heart rate and breathing returning to a steady pace.

"Hmm," he moaned and turned onto his back, bringing me nearly on top of him. I braced myself with my hand, placing it on his firm chest. I resisted the feeling to swoon on the spot. I nuzzled my head into the crook of his neck and smelled the sweet aroma that he always had; coffee, smoke, cologne, and the strange smell of copper, like a new penny.

"Good morning my love," Sherlock whispered groggily into my ear.

"Good morning my dear fiancée," I mumbled back, my face still concealed in his shoulder.

"When did you get up?" he asked, turning himself onto his side towards me.

"Just a minute ago. Did you sleep well?" I inquired. Clearly we were avoiding the stupid after sex chat where you both tell each other how "good" it was. I always found that conversation completely and utterly awkward.

"I did, but-"

"But what?" I questioned and looked him in the eye for the first time today.

"My arm seems to have fallen asleep on me. Can I…"

"Oh yeah of course," I stumbled and allowed him to remove his arm out from under me.

He tucked his arm behind his head and I couldn't help but steal a glance at the definitive muscles he had. With his other hand, he brought it up to cup my face and placed a few loose strands of hair behind my ear. He let his hand remain on my neck, rubbing soft circles on my cheek with his thumb. I couldn't will myself not to blush. Sherlock smiled and laughed heartily. I could feel his laugh vibrate through my body and it sent a chill down my spine.

"I love you, Molly," he confessed. The honesty in his voice almost made me want to cry.

"I love you too, Sherlock," I squeaked, my voice not wanting to function correctly.

Sherlock didn't seem to mind and I place my hand on top of his, interlacing our fingers together. He ducked his head, and I could feel his warm breath on my cheek. Ducking lower, he taunted me, and let his mouth remain centimeters away from mine. A strange courageousness washed over me and I freed my hand from his and wrapped it around his neck, kissing him passionately. Sherlock held my back with a single hand, it sliding farther down my back with every kiss.

In another minute, the duvet was discarded to the ground once again.

* * *

I sat on the sofa of my small flat, sipping tea and flipping through a bridal magazine. Sherlock strode in finishing the last button on his suit jacket, a half-eaten muffin precariously placed in his mouth. I stifled a laugh and he didn't seem to notice.

"I didn't know you wore glasses?" he pointed out and finished the muffin all at once.

"I only wear them for reading sometimes," I said and placed them aside on the end table.

"And what are you reading?" he inquired, crums falling adorably from his mouth.

"Nothing," I proclaimed as nonchalantly as I could manage.

"Let me see," he walked towards me.

"No."

"Molly…"

"No," I said again and held the magazine to my chest.

"Molly don't be a child," he grabbed for the magazine.

I turned in the sofa away from him and concealed it, but I hadn't realized he had a tight grip on the edge of it. As I turned away, he tumbled forward as well but gracefully landed in the sofa next to me. Instead of being mad or grumpy like I thought he was going to be, he laughed and fought for the magazine. I swatted his hands away playfully and he lifted me onto his lap and easily plucked the magazine out of my hand as I held my stomach with the other, laughing almost to tears.

"A bridal magazine? Why would you be ashamed of reading this?" he asked with a broad smile on his face.

"I didn't want you thinking that I was one of those brides."

"One of what brides?" he questioned. He truly didn't know what I was talking about.

"A bride that obsesses," I clarified and wrapped my arm around his neck as I still sat in his lap.

He opened the magazine on my lap. It was full of pictures of happy brides and grooms and big, extravagant wedding pictures.

"Do you want something like this?" he said, serious now.

"I don't know. I think so," I laughed nervously.

"Well you can have it. I don't mind. I just want you to have the best day of your life."

"Oh and getting married to you will be _the _best day of my life?" I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I can't imagine anything as pleasant as that day will be," he purred.

I went to kiss him before he stopped me, "I'm afraid, my dear, that if I even begin to kiss you, I won't be able to will myself to stop."

"Alright fine," I said with a defeated and over exaggerated sigh.

He carefully swung my legs off his lap and headed for the door. I could hear the rustle of his coat and scarf. Without another thought, I stood and snuck up behind him in the hallway. Sherlock was about to turn around and tell me goodbye until he found me behind him. I kissed him soundly on the lips and when I broke apart from him, I still held the lapels of his coat.

"You are a temptress," he said with a playful distaste.

"No fedora?" I questioned.

"The world will know about me soon enough."

"And why's that?"

"I'm going out to reveal myself to Lestrade and get him his job back."

"How sweet of you," I smiled proudly at him, "Tell him hello from me will you?"

"Will do," he said and gave me a loving kiss on my forehead, "I love you."

"Love you too."

With that, he closed the door behind him and I was left in my cold flat all by myself. Grabbing the quilt from the armchair, I snuggled up on my sofa and slid my reading glasses onto the bridge of my nose. Thumbing through the bridal magazine, I found where I had left off.

**BOOM! Cliffhanger? No, yes? I think it was! I've always loved the idea of Molly in glasses. If you go to lexieken on DeviantArt you can see some lovely art with Molly in glasses. Expect another chapter soon. I'm having FUN! Just don't expect it tomorrow; I'm currently staying up from midnight to six am for the Psych Slumber Party! If you don't know what that is shame on you. Go watch Psych on Netflix and you can thank me later. ;D**

**Thanks to FreeSpiritSeeker for beta-ing. My internet sweetheart *hugs***

**(P.S. It's been a while since I've done this and I doubt all of you go onto my bio so, I just wanted to say you guys should follow me on Tumblr under the same username, avatardsherlockian. I've got 595 followers and it would be great if my 600th follower was a fan of my story!)**

**~Mel**


	42. He's Back

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**ENJOY!**

Sherlock's POV

As I bounded gracefully down the stairs of Molly's flat building, I already expected what would be on the street waiting for me. Pushing myself through sidewalk traffic, I was met with a black car. It rumbled soundlessly and the sun gleamed on its sleek paint that made it look all the more mysterious. I slunk into the car's cold leather seat and closed the door.

"Hello, dear brother," Mycroft said, and almost on cue, the car jerked forward into the everyday London traffic. Anthea didn't even look up from her phone to acknowledge my presence.

"Mycroft," I sighed, "I imagine you'll require my services at a later date due to all you have been doing for me."

"Everything comes with a price," Mycroft said, a devious smile lingering under his lips and he continued, "Detective Inspector Lestrade will have his job back, effective tomorrow morning."

A pang of guilt riddled me. Lestrade had lost his job because he trusted me too much and now he was demoted into the worst job one could have. My stomach flip flopped as I imagined Donovan behind his desk, with his cases, and his pay rate. She didn't deserve it and she never will.

"The story of your 'rebirth'," he used air-quotes, "Will be known by all of London in a matter of hours."

I couldn't help but smile slightly at the thought; Kitty Riley would certainly lose her job.

"Have you heard of-"

"Your engagement to Miss Hooper? Of course I have. You underestimate my knowledge, Sherlock."

"Would you be so kind to attend our wedding?" I asked with the nicest of smiles that even Mycroft knew I was faking.

"Do you want me to come?"

"Molly would love for you to grace us with your presence."

"You didn't answer my question," Mycroft challenged.

I remained silent.

Anthea peeled her fingers away from her phone for a fraction of a second and whispered something into Mycroft's ear. He scribbled something down quickly on a page in a government file. I never will find out what Mycroft's job extends to. He wasn't a politician; he didn't even seem to have a boss.

"Sherlock?" Mycroft seethed.

I snapped out of my revere.

"Get out," he demanded, annoyed.

I slid across the seat and opened my door. I turned to duck my head back into the car, "Thank you, Mycroft."

I closed the door, knowing he wouldn't respond, but I still caught the small smile that touched his lips.

I strode down the length of the sidewalk. Turning the corner, I saw him. He wore an awful policeman's hat with the boring uniform. I crossed the street carefully. He was only a few paces in front of me. My heart beat began to pick up; it felt like a hummingbird was trying to escape my chest. I certainly did not want to be punched again; my jaw was still sore. He placed a parking ticket on the vehicle next to him. Before I could approach him myself, he turned around. He locked eyes with me and I swore I could hear him take in a sharp breath.

"Sherlock?" he asked incredulous. I couldn't tell if he was more angry than happy.

"Hello, Lestrade."

"Sherlock, I-" Lestrade wasn't the crying sort of man but I could still see them forming in his eyes. He blinked hard and pulled me into an iron grip. Before I could return it however, he pulled away. A large smile adorned his face and his eyes shone with excitement. Just moments before, he looked stressed and tired. Now, he looked like he would dare a backflip in the busy streets of London.

He laughed heartily, "I knew I could believe in you, I knew it!" he shouted with glee.

"Thank you for never doubting me, Lestrade."

"You know that's not true. I did start to doubt you. I was almost convinced. I'm so sorry, Sherlock."

I clapped a hand on his shoulder, "I had a lot riding against me. I'm just thankful that you were there for me. Who knows where my life would be now without your assistance all those years ago?"

It was strange to bring up my previous addiction to heroine. I never talked about it to anyone if I didn't have to.

"Don't get all sappy on me now," he joked even though he knew I wasn't trying to be, "I'm clearly not the great Detective Inspector I was before. I can't help you anymore."

"That's funny because I recall that _I_ helped _you _in most cases."

"Don't be an arse," he played, "You know what I meant."

"You're getting your job back tomorrow."

"What?!" he asked, unconvinced.

"I think Donovan should come off her power trip now don't you think? She's had long enough."

Lestrade laughed heartily. He was never one to laugh often and it made my heart warm in the slightest way just to hear my friend content. I did get him laid off, but I never took away all of his happiness like I did John. I wasn't sure if I should be insulted or relieved, but that didn't matter at the moment.

"I do have something to tell you, Lestrade."

He detected the seriousness in my voice, "My shift just ended. Let's go sit down for a cup, yeah?"

We walked a few blocks and sat down with a cup of coffee, warming our cold hands in a small coffee shop.

"What do you need to tell me then?"

"While I was away I stayed with Molly Hooper until I could come back out of hiding. She says 'hello' by the way."

"Nice to hear from her. I bet she liked living with you _very_ much," he hinted.

He earned a small smile from me, "As did I. We developed a relationship and I asked for her hand in marriage just yesterday."

Lestrade almost sputtered his coffee across the table, "What?"

"It's true. I don't know why people are so surprised," I said nonchalantly and sat back in my chair lazily, sipping my coffee that was much too bitter for my taste.

"Well…I-I don't know what to say," he smiled, incredulous.

"How about congratulations and you'll come to our wedding?"

"Of course I will. I wouldn't miss that for the world. I thought you were married to your work. What changed your mind?"

"I don't know. No other woman struck me like she did. She's smart and brave and beautiful. She's helped me through everything and was there for me every time I made a mistake, which I have to admit, was often."

Lestrade stared at me, doubt lingering behind his eyes, "Sherlock, you don't have to marry her just to keep her for yourself. This is a new side of you I've never seen. I don't think you want to do this."

"I love her, Lestrade," I seethed, keeping my anger and annoyance to a minimum.

"Ah I see," he smiled, "That explains it. Over the last few months, she's the only one you could talk to. I imagine you'd told her things you never even told John before. You put all of your trust in her and she didn't cease to amaze you. I'm happy for you, Sherlock. I really am."

"Really? I did see the way you looked at her at the Christmas party," I inquired.

"Hey," he threw up his arms, "I'm only a man."

I laughed at him and within minutes, my coffee was gone and I was missing Molly already. I stood up and shrugged on my coat, tying my scarf round my neck. Lestrade sipped the last few drops from his cup and stood up as well, placing his policeman hat promptly on his head.

"I need a case, Lestrade. I've missed it. Don't refrain from calling me."

"Will do," he promised, and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, squeezing, "Just be careful, Sherlock. We don't need a repeat of this. You were gone for almost four months. I think you need to take things slow."

"Nice murder will put me back in the game," I said as we stepped onto the cracked pavement.

Lestrade simply scowled at me and waved without turning around as he walked away from me down the sidewalk. I hailed a cab, but not back to Molly's flat. Not yet anyways.

Kicking off my shoes, I padded into the living room. Molly lay on the couch, her glasses askew on the bridge of her nose and her magazine on the floor. She snored softly, occasionally humming in her sleep. I plucked the glasses gingerly from her face and picked up the magazine off the carpet, placing both on the coffee table. I lifted her legs up carefully and sat down, letting her legs remain in my lap. I switched on the telly, but I didn't know how loud the volume was. The sound shrilled out and woke Molly up. She sat up groggily, rubbing her eyes with both hands.

"Hello, darling," I looked down at her.

"Hey, babe," she pulled her legs under her and snuggled into my side, sprawling her fingers over my chest, "How did it go?"

"He understood, but that doesn't matter right now," I flipped to the BBC News channel.

"What's going to be on the news?" Molly questioned.

"Me," I answered simply as she stared at me, confused.

An African American woman sat behind the news desk, "In other news, the Suicide of the Fake Genius, Sherlock Holmes, was all a hoax. Our sources say that Holmes has been alive this whole time. Holmes was not available for comment and neither were any of his colleagues. The story as to how he faked his death, will remain a mystery to us all."

I switched off the telly with a rough click and tossed the remote aside.

"So everyone knows now," she sighed, "I bet Anderson and Sally are going absolutely mental," she teased.

"You'll still assist me on cases you know? Just less often as per the last four months."

"I know," she sighed again and stood, "Come to bed with me, Sherlock," she said and motioned with her hand for me to stand. I took her hand, but to her shock, I pulled her down onto my lap. She laughed as I nibbled on her ear. I stopped for a smallest of seconds to hoist her up into my arms as I got up from the sofa. I lead her to our bedroom, careful not to bump into anything while I busied myself with her lips, and within another minute, with her clothing.

**BOOM! Insinuated sexy time haha ;D Sorry that this was a bit late; I got assigned a huge 10-20 minute poetry presentation and I've been stressed. I love poetry just not public speaking... I also felt the need to point out how Wanted by Hunter Hayes is my #1 Sherlolly song! Listen to it and you will understand. See ya'll soon!**

**~Mel**


	43. Raise Your Glass

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Molly's POV

It has been nearly a week since Sherlock revealed himself to John, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade, and the entirety of London. Sherlock had received file after file of "high profile cases" that weren't so high profile for him to solve. I had hardly been able to see him since and I was beginning to feel left out of his life.

Sitting in the morgue, I finished the final piece of paperwork I had to do for the day. I looked up at the clock on the wall; 8:00 PM. Almost as if it was timed, a text alert sounded from my mobile. Fishing it out of my lab coat pocket, I unlocked it and gazed down at the text I had just received.

_Take off of work early. Be ready to go somewhere fancy. See you at 9._

_-SH_

I held the excited giggle in my throat, but let a large smile crack across my face. Pulling off my lab coat and putting on my brown fitted trench coat, I left the hospital to get ready.

Back at my flat, I searched deep in my closet for the nicest thing I owned after taking a shower and blow drying my hair. I saw a piece of pink fabric behind Sherlock's masses of suit jackets and pushed them aside. Sitting there delicately on the hanger was the very dress I had bought with Irene. It was just as I remembered it; the thick straps, the empire waist, the soft peach color, the clusters of white flowers, butterflies, and peacock feathers that branched out appearing to look like a belt. I gushed at it like I hadn't seen it in ages and shrugged off my clothes. Letting the thick straps lay on my shoulders, I zipped up the back. I pulled on a pair of high heels, the color of pastel. I curled my hair as fast as humanly possible, letting it fall on my shoulders in soft ringlets. Putting on a light shade of pink lipstick and a small amount of mascara, I took one final look in the mirror, and headed downstairs.

Sherlock's POV

"I'm going to propose to Molly tonight."

"What?" John asked, ducking slightly under the yellow police tape that I was holding up for him, "I thought you already proposed."

"Yes but I didn't have a ring. This time I do," I said and patted the box that felt heavy in my pocket.

John clapped his hand on my shoulder, "Good on you, Sherlock. You are going to make Molly a very happy woman."

"I hope so," I added absent mindedly.

Pulling out my phone I fired a text off to Molly. The ring box in my pocket felt as if it was on fire. _Nerves, _I thought. My mind was on high alert; the murder victim at the crime scene was shot but there was no bullet found or any gunshot residue. For now I would have to put that off; tonight cannot be ruined. I won't let it. I even called in a favor from Mycroft which I will never hear the end of.

I hailed a cab, allowing John to get in first and we rode back to Baker Street. The trip was silent and my knees wouldn't stop bouncing up and down. After a decade and a half, John and I arrived at Baker Street and I pounded up the stairs. I got into my room and rummaged through suits and disguises in my large, wooden bureau. I pulled out a jet black tuxedo and put it on. I finished the cuffs on my shirtsleeves as I walked into the living room and looked at myself briefly in the mirror.

"You're looking sharp," John commented as he walked into the room, a book in his hands.

"Do shut up, John."

John chuckled and shook his head at me, "Have you prepared a speech?"

"I was going to 'wing it'," I said using air quotes.

"Just don't disappoint her, Sherlock. This is one of the most memorable moments in a relationship and she is going to have some very high standards."

"Molly knows me. She knows what to expect."

"That doesn't mean you don't have to surprise her. Just be a bit spontaneous, yeah?"

"And you think you're such an expert because of your track record with women?" I questioned.

"I know more than you and I think you should take my advice into consideration."

"Don't over exert yourself, John, just because this is the one thing that you are more knowledgeable on."

John sighed, "Don't be a prat, Sherlock. I'm only trying to help."

"Yes but this is something I don't need help with, something I must do entirely on my own. It has to be genuine. I can't mess this up. There's too much riding on this."

"Listen to you," John sighed, "You've changed."

"For the better?" I asked, turning around before I walked out the door.

"Definitely for the better," He smiled at me, proud.

Molly's POV

I rode the lift down from my apartment and emerged out onto the sidewalk. I checked my mobile; 8:59. Before it turned itself off, the numbers changed to 9:00. With Sherlock's impeccable timing, a sleek black limousine pulled up next to the curb. The door opened and Sherlock's long legs stepped out onto the pavement. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. His tuxedo was jet black and contrasted with his alabaster skin beautifully. His black curls seemed as if they were the same color and almost made him look like a ghost, if not transparent. All of that was ignored, including the amazing lengths that he went to with the limousine, when I saw how sweetly he smiled at me. The corners of his mouth rose warmly and never seemed to falter, not even for a moment.

I half ran over to him, missing the contact of his arms around me. I pulled him into a hug, wrapping my arms around his neck, his draped lovingly around my waist.

"I missed you, Sherlock," I breathed him in deeply.

"I know. I'm sorry," he sighed, taking my face in his cold hands, the feeling like electricity, "I missed you too. But tonight will make up for our time spent apart. I'll make time for you, Molly. I promise."

I smiled after he pressed a soft kiss to my lips, "I know you will. I'm not questioning your respect for this relationship. Have a little faith, yeah?"

"I just imagined you would be more upset with me."

"Ooh I'm very angry," I played, "Which means this better not be a waste of my time," I winked at him.

Sherlock smirked at me and opened the door of the limousine.

"Sherlock, this is too much," I gushed as I slid across the leather seats. He slid in after me, closing the door behind him as the car rumbled to life and crossed into the correct road lane.

He reached into a compartment in front of our seats, pulling out two glasses and an expensive bottle champagne. He poured one, handing it to me, and poured his own. He placed the bottle back into the compartment and turned to me in his seat, raising his glass into the air.

"To us."

It was simple, but it still meant the world to me to hear him say "us." There still seemed to be something else he wanted to say, something lurking in his throat that he wanted to say, but I brushed it off. I raised my glass as high as he did.

"To us."

**BOOM! I know I could have made this longer and included the date but I didn't want you guys to wait any bit longer. Good new and bad news in my life right now. If any of you were actually interested, I got a 97% on my poetry presentation! YAY! Bad news - On friday, my gym teacher, Mrs. Kennedy, was feeling sick during one of her classes and she called herself an ambulance. At the end of school during assembly, the priest at our school told us she was having the beginning of a brain aneurysm. Please pray for her or do whatever you do when you seek hope. Sorry to bring something sad onto here you guys. I'll end this with RAINBOWS and everything's happy again YAY! ;D**

**~Mel **


	44. Of Course I Will

**Hey all! Sorry this chapter took so long; I got into the Walking Dead and I've been watching it all week gah! Also I was playing my new Lara Croft: Tomb Raider game... beat it in two days flat! Thanks to all who reviewed and FreeSpiritSeeker for beta-ing, love ya dear! Shoutouts!**

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**Rocking the Redhead- Yep in this chapter it's his grandmother's! Thank you so much!**

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**Guest- Oh my god your review makes me so happy! I love that you're loving it! That's such a nice think to say! Thank you, dear!**

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**Sherlolly-221B- Haha I'm glad I got a laugh from you! Thank you so much for your consideration!**

**STORY, GUISE! **

Sherlock's POV

I held out a warm hand towards Molly and she took it, stepping out of the limousine. Her pastel high heels clobbered against the pavement while I moved about soundlessly in my dress shoes.

I took Molly's hands in mine, "You look stunning, love," I admitted and twirled her around once before pulling her close to me.

She blushed and looked around apologetically at other passerbys on the sidewalk that she had almost hit, "Thank you, Sherlock," she said and brought her hand up to touch my cheek lightly, "You aren't so bad yourself."

The engagement ring in my pocket felt heavy and I feared that Molly could hear how rapidly my heart was beating.

* * *

"Why isn't there anyone else here?" Molly asked our waiter; a young blond man, when we were seated.

"I'd ask your friend here," he gestured towards me with a knowing smirk and left.

"Sherlock?" she questioned slowly.

"Yes, dear?" I looked at her with a delightful smile.

"Did you set this up so we'd be alone? What's all the fuss about?"

"Tonight is a very special night," I put it simply.

Molly looked at me curiously, her mouth agape as if she was about to say something back. The waiter came back to our table, interrupting Molly temporarily.

He placed our food in front of us, left a bottle of wine on the table, and left with a curt "enjoy."

"We didn't even order anything…" Molly said slowly, looking down at her food confusedly.

A small smile played across her lips when she saw the dish, "Pasta," she whispered, "It's what we had on our first date. Sherlock, this is so sweet."

"That was the reaction I was hoping for thank you," I popped the cork of the wine and poured it into both glasses on the table.

"Why did we have to dress up?" she questioned nonchalantly as she sipped her wine.

"Why not?" I asked with equal ease.

"You're acting strange tonight, Sherlock," she drawled out in interest.

"You should eat your food before it gets cold."

Molly ate even slower, annoying me, "You've got something on your mind. Something you want to tell me."

"Don't try to deduce it out of me. That's my thing," I teased. On the inside I felt like if she found out, this night would be ruined.

"I don't know," she said, leaning forward in her seat, "You've rubbed off on me. Maybe not all the brain that you have but I notice things."

"Don't do that."

"Don't do what?"

Before I knew what I was doing, I stood up swiftly from my chair and kneeled next to her, taking her hand in mine.

"Don't undermine your intelligence. It makes me frustrated when you do that to yourself. You helped me fake my death; hell, you came up with most of the plan. You're brilliant, Molly Hooper and that's why you count. You're not like other people; they don't see the world like you do, with rightful optimism. You're beautiful. I love the way you laugh all the time, I love the way you sing in the shower, I love your soft kisses, your sweet smiles, and I love you, Molly."

I pulled the box out of my pocket, "I know I've already proposed," I said as she gasped and place her other hand on her chest, "but it wasn't right, it wasn't proper. This time I have a ring; it was my grandmother's and I know she would have loved the idea of you having it. I've never been in love. I know there's something in me that changed when I met you, something that I couldn't figure out," Molly laughed, "I'm sorry it took my so long to realize someone as amazing and caring as you was staring back at me with those great big, brown eyes of yours. Not seeing you was one of the worst mistakes I ever made. I could have been so much happier with you before all of this. I don't have you, you have me. You've stolen me, Molly and I can only hope that you'll let me do the same. So, Molly Hooper, my love, my sweetheart, will you do me the honor of being my wife?" I asked and opened the box, revealing the engagement ring. It was a simple gold band, with three singular diamonds, the one in the middle twice the size of the other two.

Molly wiped a stray tear from her face, "Do you even have to ask, Sherlock?," she whispered, "Of course I will. Yes, yes!" She half shouted, her lips seeming to rise more and more.

I smiled back at her, ignoring the tears that had formed in my own eyes, and slid the ring carefully, yet effortlessly onto her finger as if it was equally the hardest and easiest thing I ever had to do.

Molly marveled at it and kissed me once on the forehead, "Sherlock, it's so beautiful."

She stood as I did and flung her arms around my neck, kissing me soundly on the lips, burying her fingers into the tussles of my hair. I brought my hand up, caressing her face as I held my other arm around her waist. Her kisses were filled with meaning and hope and acceptance and I melted into her, into them feeling the full force of her love radiating through me.

Soon we had to sit down to finish our meal with reluctance. Molly drank most of the wine, not enough to make her drunk but enough to make her hiccup now and then. We ended the date with a dance.

"I always thought that the woman should propose too," she thought aloud, as we swayed together, her head buried in my shoulder.

"Why's that?"

"I don't know," she sighed looking me in the eye, "It just doesn't seem fair that we don't have to."

I nodded to her, "Women do propose to men on occasion."

"Yes but that's still not fair," she sighed again, "Sherlock, It would be an honor to become your wife. You protect me, you take time out of your day to talk to me, and you love me, something you never though would happen. I feel so blessed to have you in my life, Sherlock. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. We've been through so much," she was trying hard not to cry, "I can't imagine living without you. Now that I look back, my life didn't really begin until I met you. I had hope again. You did that to me, Sherlock, you. I am so grateful for you, your existence. I love your hair, your eyes," she brought her hand up to caress my face lightly, "your brain, your love for your friends and family, and most of all… I love you for opening your heart up to me. If you wouldn't have ever done that, I don't know what kind of person I'd be today. You changed me, Sherlock, and it was all for the better."

I brought my own hand up to push her hair past her ear, burying my fingers the strands, "Of course I'll marry you, Molly."

**BOOM! Okay I kinda made myself cry of feels I was like "AHH I wrote something TOO cute! On another note, I've started another story called the Sincerest Apologies and I'd love it if you guys checked it out! Also there really isn't any new news on my gym teacher except for that she probably won't return for the rest of the school year :( On a more happy note, I was thinking of putting the song Amazed by Lonestar into here but I decided not to; I just thought it was a good proposal song... leave a review and tell me what you thought. This chapter was hard to get exactly right and I hope you guys liked it! ;D**

**~Mel**


	45. The Morning After

**Hello all! As always, this is me apologizing for taking so long. I got this new game, Mafia II, and I've been obsessed with it for days. I finally beat it and I don't think my mom will be buying me any new games any time soon haha! K, shoutouts?**

**JazzSambora- Haha thank you so much! Yeah I get that way when I read fanfics and it's usually my sister too who catches me looking weird o.O haha! Omfg I know I started crying while writing I was like ahhh! Thanks so much for the love!**

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**Sherlolly-221B- Omg I know so did I! Thank you so much for checking out and reviewing my story, it really means a lot to me that you enjoy both stories! ILY.**

**Rocking the Redhead- Thanks a lot! I spent my time on those like seriously that shit is from the heart man. Okay I'm done xD Thanks for the review, sweetie!**

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**AdaYuki- Haha so glad you LOVED it, dear!**

**Ash-dash1- Oh my god can you not like seriously this review made me hyperventilate! You are so goddamn sweet like omfg you are the most hilarious person! Don't stop reviewing like for real this was the greatest! ;D**

**Benedict-Addict Holmes- Oh hello there! Thanks so much for the review; glad you liked it! :)**

**STORY MY LOVELIES!**

Molly's POV

I sat on the edge of our bed in 221B, my legs crossed in front of me and the duvet wrapped around my body. Ever since I woke up this morning, I couldn't stop staring at the beautiful ring that was on my finger. Last night had been perfect. Everything that was said was true, nothing was left out, and everything was right in the world again. For the first time in a long time, I thought that we were finally safe, finally done with fearing what the day may bring. Of course, Sherlock still had cases and there were still bad people out there just not as bad as Moriarty or Moran had ever been. My hands unconsciously started to tremble as I remembered the day I shot Sebastian Moran. I couldn't help but feel guilty because the two men seemed as if they were in love and I severed and destroyed that. I shook the thoughts away because I never wanted to think about such things again; I hated myself for killing their love and I couldn't help it. Instead, I grabbed Sherlock's shirt that was on the floor next to me and shrugged it over my head. Moments later, Sherlock came into the room, his dark mass of curls dripping as he looped his belt around his trousers. He walked over to the bed and as he did, I kneeled at the corner of the bed and craned my neck to kiss him. He hummed against my mouth and rested his hands on my hips as I snaked my arms around his neck.

"Good morning, my fiancée. You look gorgeous this morning," he purred in my ear.

Truthfully, I didn't; my hair was in slight disarray as it hung around my shoulders, I didn't have any makeup on, and I didn't get much sleep last night…

"Liar," I played, pulling him closer to me so his bare chest was pressed up against mine.

"Now, Molly, Molly," he sighed, "Why would I lie to you like that? I think you're beautiful all the time whether you're wearing a dress or…" he bunched the fabric of my shirt behind my back in his hands, "Next to nothing," he finished with a smirk that could only be described as sexy.

"What if I was wearing nothing?"

"I don't think I'd be able to control myself," Sherlock said, his eyes gleaming with lust.

I laughed at him and pulled him down onto the bed. I hovered over him for a moment, but before I could even kiss him a shout came from downstairs.

"Sherlock!" yelled John.

"What?" Sherlock yelled back angrily, his hands still holding onto my hips.

"Come down here!"

"No."

"Sherlock…" John drawled out.

Sherlock rolled his eyes but he knew that John needed him right now. He let go of me with reluctance and I lay on my side as I watched him close the door.

Before he did, he turned back around, sticking his head through the crack, "Don't. Move."

After closing the door, I went over to Sherlock's bureau. I opened the drawer that held my spare clothes and I changed into a pair of black jeans and a powder blue t-shirt. Pulling my hair up into a ponytail, I made my way downstairs. As I came down the hallway, John saw me and had a big smile on his face. Sherlock, noticing this, turned to look at me; I could tell he wasn't very pleased that I was fully dressed. Now that Sherlock had stepped aside, I could see why John looked so happy. Standing next to him, was a blond woman. She was a few inches shorter than John and she had her arm wrapped around his.

"Hey, Molly. This is Mary," he smiled down at his girlfriend.

"Hello, I'm Molly Hooper. It's nice to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you," Molly said, and offered the other girl her hand.

Instead, Mary detached herself from John for a short moment to give Molly a friendly hug.

"Ello, Molly. I'm Mary Morstan. And…" she hooked her arm around John's again, "I hope all of the things you've heard are good things," she said and glared at John suspiciously.

"Don't look at me. I don't have any bad things to say about you," he smiled.

Mary kissed him on the cheek and I looked up at Sherlock just in time to see him roll his eyes. I stood on my tiptoes and planted a kiss in the center of his cheek. He looked down at me with a curious expression.

"What was that for?" he whispered.

"Just proving that while you may not like when they did it, you like when I do it to you."

"Amazing deduction, you are brilliant, Molly," Sherlock spoke sarcastically in a low tone.

"Shall we get a takeaway?" John asked the group.

"Sure that sounds lovely," I responded.

Sherlock grumbled and headed over to the couch. It's not that Sherlock doesn't like Mary, but he was upset that she had to be here right now. While I too wished I could go back to bed with him, I think it was time to get out of bed seeing that it was near noon.

"So Molly, what do you do for work?"

"I'm a pathologist. I work at St. Bartholomew's Hospital."

"Oh, really? I do too. I'm a neurologist. I never knew you worked there too."

"Yeah you should stop by sometime and we can grab coffee."

"Sure, absolutely," she said as she sat down in John's chair, "Sounds like fun."

I sat down in Sherlock's chair opposite her, tucking my legs underneath me I couldn't help but stare at the woman across from me; she was beautiful with delicate features and full lips. She was wearing dark blue jeans, black high heels, and a long red top with her sleeves bunched up around her elbows. Her blond hair appeared to make a halo around her face and it fell onto her shoulders gently in soft ringlets.

"Your relationship with Sherlock," she said, "How's that going for you? I hear he's not a very easy man to know."

"He isn't easy," I confessed simply, "He's a hard man to befriend let alone love. But I do. We both do," I said and couldn't help but steal a glance over at Sherlock who was still lying on the couch.

That doesn't even make much sense," I laughed at myself.

"No I understand," she said throwing up a reassuring hand.

"We're engaged, officially, of yesterday," I finished, looking at her now.

Mary let out a gasp of awe, "Really? That is so adorable!" she shrilled, "When's the wedding?"

"Uhm, I'm not sure," I said and looked over to Sherlock, "Sherlock, dear, when's the wedding?"

Sherlock eyes fluttered open at my voice, "What did you say, Molly?"

"Do we have a date set for the wedding yet?"

"Two weeks."

"What?" I asked, incredulous, "When were you going to tell me that?"

"I didn't tell you?" Sherlock looked around as if he was trying to remember if he did, "Apologies," he said simply before he closed his eyes once again and steepled he fingers under his chin.

"Jesus, how am I supposed to do this all by myself?" I asked aloud, and put my head in my hand in frustration.

"I could help you," Mary suggested suddenly.

I looked up at her.

"I may not know you very well, but I'd love to help. That is if you want my help."

I pondered on this for a moment. It's not like I didn't trust her, but I didn't know if I could trust her with my wedding. After another moment, I decided that I would need the help regardless.

"Thank you so much, Mary. I'd love to have your assistance. I'm going to need it."

"Oooh yay," she squealed, suddenly getting excited. She stood and I stood up after her. She brought her arms around me again in another quick, friendly hug.

I laughed at her, "You're quite the hugger."

"Oh yeah I love hugging, hugging's great. No matter who you're hugging, they want to be hugged. That's my motto anyway," she smiled, proud of her philosophy.

"You should hug Sherlock and see what he thinks about that."

"Maybe I just might," she laughed and winked at me, "I'm going to go help John set up for lunch, "she said and dug in her pant pocket, "Here," she put her card in my hand, "Call me when you want to get together and talk about your wedding, yeah?"

"Will do. Thanks again."

"No problem, Molls," she waved and joined John in the kitchen.

I shook my head at her, simply because she was such a strange person and I made my way over to the sofa.

"Sit up."

Sherlock opened his eyes up again and made room for me. As soon as I sat down, he positioned his head comfortably in my lap.

"That's not fair," I laughed at him.

"Neither is most things," he said and grabbed my hand that had been resting on his chest.

"Why must you always say things that are deep and meaningful?" I questioned.

"Are there other ways of speaking? All words should be important. Everything said should be what's on your mind, what you truly think at that moment."

"What are you thinking about right now?"

"How someone can be killed via gunshot when there was no exit wound or bullet remaining in the body."

"That wasn't the answer I was hoping for…"

"Oh and you," he teased, "I was also thinking of you."

"Good answer."

I bent down to kiss him as he craned his neck to close the gap between our lips. He brought his hand up and held the back of my neck as I rested mine on his chest.

Someone cleared their throat loudly, breaking us out of our reverie. As I looked up, I found that it was John who was now smirking at us.

"Food's ready."

"Yes thank you, John what impeccable timing you have," Sherlock noted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

John gave his friend a knowing look and walked back into the kitchen.

"Later?" Sherlock asked me.

"Later," I agreed.

**BOOM! Okay like so cute I love my version of my Mary she's a hugger guise. Anyways, I'd love it if you guys checked out my new fic, _The Sincerest Apologies_. Thanks goes out to the people who already did (ILY) and thanks goes to FreeSpiritSeeker for betaing this fic! See ya guys soon ;D**

**~Mel**


	46. Something's Wrong

**Hey guys! Sorry that this was so late. I've been hanging out with my brother cause he was home from college and I hung out with my friend Cassandra yesterday so this would have been written sooner. Anyways, shoutouts!**

**Aviatress- Haha I'm so glad you like it! I'm loving my version of Mary too! Thanks for the love!**

**JazzSambora- Haha no that's not crazy at all /twitch/ haha! They were making out so they were all like yeah lets continue this "later" lol. **

**Ash-dash1- Haha I can totally tell how much you love her because when I get to the end of a chapter and I loved it a lot, I say stuff like that haha! M-m-m-Mary Morstan haha! I'm so glad you're loving my story! Haha I understand you I feellll you bro, ya know? lol. Awesome person is awesome xD ILY.**

**AdaYuki- Haha thanks for the review! Sorry it took so long!**

**Zora Arian- Haha I will never stop lol! Haha yeah he'd be all like eww back off I'm taken lady. Haha yes I even laughed at my own writing! Thanks again for the review! **

**Whenthebirddies- Omg I've been reading your url as When the birdies instead of When the bird dies *sobs* Haha omg I love you! I love all of those shooting games my mom thinks I'm gonna kill someone someday lol. No stop that. You are going to make me lose my mind. THank you so much! I've never been called someone's role model and you totally just touched my heart you lil shit. Also pie! Omg ILY so MUCH! I want to get to know you so bad can I just urgh!**

**gforcejedi- Wow thank you so much for all six of your reviews! I love when people review as they read your entire story. Keep the reviews coming like seriously. The fact that you called one of my earlier chapters beautiful is so kind! My earlier writing sucks in my opinion but you liked it so yay! Thanks again! ;D**

**Empress of Verace- Haha I know Sherlock's such a butt. Ikr?! SEASON 3! So glad you like Mary! See you soon!**

**Frostybutt- First of all your url is fantastic and so is your picture. Second of all thank you so much! The story loves you too and so does the author ;)**

**Rocking the Redhead- So glad you like her! Thank you so much for your constant love!**

**Sherlolly-221B- Haha I knew that would make some people laugh! I'm so happy that you like Mary! Haha that's so cute! Eek thank you!**

**Sorry bout all of the shoutouts; I had lots of love to dish out ifyaknowhattimean xD**

Sherlock's POV

We lounged in the living of Baker Street on the sofa, her legs tangled with my long ones, her hand resting on my chest, and her lips on mine. She hummed against my mouth and came up for air, burying her head in the crook of my neck and intertwining her fingers with my hair. My hand still rested on her cheek while the other stayed on the small of her back.

"I miss this," she whispered.

"Miss what? We do this all the time," I teased.

"You know what I mean," she giggled and looked at me, "I miss never being interrupted. What I love the most is being with you and it sucks when we have to stop."

"Sucks? Really? That's such a childish word."

"You're icky, Sherlock," she told me seriously.

"I think you're gross too," I said and ran my fingers through her hair. She brought her lips down to kiss me again but was interrupted once again by a new arrival.

"Every time," she hissed defeated and detached herself from my side. I sat up after her and grabbed my coat that hung on the rack.

"I have to go see Lestrade about a case. I'll see you later, yeah?" I asked just as Mary emerged from the doorway. Molly nodded to me and I kissed her on the forehead then on the lips. Strangely, something felt wrong. I didn't want to leave Molly, not today.

"Is something wrong, Sherlock?" she asked, worried.

"No, no. It's nothing," I shook my head a little too vigorously and Molly looked all the more concerned.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you so much," I whispered and let go of her. I glanced back at her over my shoulder as I left, but I had no idea why. _Of course she was there, _I told myself,_ I just saw her._

I gasped and sat up with a start.

"What is it now?" Lestrade asked as he held a half-eaten doughnut in his hand, his legs crossed at the ankles on his desk.

"A blood bullet," I said slowly and bolted up off of Lestrade's sofa in his office. Once Lestrade had gotten his job back, he requested for better accommodations and acquired a bigger office with a sofa. One, in which, was not very comfortable.

"What are you on about?"

"It was a bullet made out of blood, frozen blood, which killed the congressman. That's why the bullet didn't lodge itself deeper into the man's chest because it didn't have the same consistency as a real bullet, do you see?" Sherlock paced in front of Lestrade's desk, a delightful gleam in his eye.

Sherlock continued, "Which also explains the small splatters of blood that were in front of the body and not behind it where the rest of the blood pooled. The bullet broke off and shattered into small pieces that fell onto the floor before the man collapsed backwards. Brilliant," I susurrated.

"A man died, Sherlock," Lestrade sounded exasperated because of how many times in the past that he had to remind me of this.

"Yes but he was also cheating on his ailing wife. I have no sympathy for the man. The wife was quite intellectual, almost to the extent of a rocket scientist or a well accomplished doctor. She killed her husband but didn't imagine, though that the bullet would break. Declare the case as unsolved."

"What? Why?" Lestrade questioned, slightly annoyed.

"Can't you see, Lestrade? She has cancer. She has two months to live and that's being generous. Do you really wish to send a woman who isn't even strong enough to care for herself to jail?"

Lestrade sighed and rubbed his fingers over his temple, "I suppose we can mark it down as unsolved. You're the only one who figured it out and I can't imagine anyone else doing the same."

"Good," I nodded to him and opened the door of his office as I made to depart.

"I'm happy for you, Sherlock," Lestrade said almost as an afterthought.

"Whatever for?" I turned to look at him.

"I'm glad that you have Molly in your life now. Even when you must occupy your time with her, you still seem to be just as intelligent as you ever were. She's made you a better detective somehow."

"And somehow a better person," I added.

"I always thought you were a great man and someday if we were lucky you might even be a good one. And now you are," Lestrade's eyes lingered over me for a moment, "I like it. The new you."

"If you don't stop saying things that have to do with emotion I will-"

"Alright, alright," Lestrade laughed, "I don't have any cases for you at the moment so get back to your fiancée. And Sherlock," he paused, "Don't ever let her go."

"I've never been so happy in my life. Of course I won't."

Molly's POV

"Oh my god my fingers feel like jello!" Mary half-yelled. We sat at the kitchen table in Baker Street, making wedding invitations.

"Mary, you've done four," I laughed at her.

"Yeah but tying tiny little bows is hard!" Mary whined like a child.

The invitations were dark blue with a black border and a small blue bow on the top. The script that ran across the paper was white and intricate.

"There aren't a lot of people coming anyways. You only have a few more to do," I tried my best to soothe her.

"Fine," she sighed, "Why must you have these blasted bows on here anyways?"

"Decoration?" I suggested.

Mary rolled her eyes, "Yeah, sure," she laughed.

After a moment of silence I spoke, "What about you and John then? Do you think he's the one?"

"Molly! We've only been dating a couple of weeks. He's sweet on me, yes, but marriage is… it's too early for that. I do think he is the right man for me but that's just the hopeless romantic in me talking," Mary said and smiled absentmindedly.

"Oh, Mary that is so cute!" I squirmed slightly in my seat out of excitement, "I think you two are so perfect for each other."

Mary shook her head happily, "Even my son, Sam, likes him. John's like his hero being a war veteran and all. When they greet each other they salute, it's so adorable. When John left my flat the other day, Sam said "bye, daddy," and it nearly broke my heart."

Molly hesitated before she asked, "Who is the boy's father?"

A tremor of pain visibly passed across Mary's entire body. She seemed to be deliberating with herself before she finally spoke up, "I fell victim to… I was…" her voice cracked slightly and she couldn't finish her sentence.

"Mary you were raped?" I asked slowly and quietly.

"Yes," she sighed and sat back in her chair, "I became pregnant and I wanted to abort him but I couldn't. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I did. Sam is such a beautiful child, so happy and full of life," she added.

I gasped inwardly, so shocked at how a loving person like the one across from me could be affected in such a way. The memory of how she hugged me the first time we met just yesterday struck a chord in my heart.

I reached my hand out to her over the table, "I'm so s-"

"Don't be," she gripped my hand tight, "Can we not talk about this anymore? Please?"

"Of course. Of course," I assured her and squeezed her hand one last time before releasing it.

We continued to finish the wedding invitations, Mary returning the smile onto her face. She looked at the time on her mobile and stood, her smile spreading over her face even more.

"It's nearly one in the afternoon and your appointment is in twenty minutes. We should go now if we want to make it to your gown fitting."

I grabbed my coat from the stand near the door as I followed her.

"Are you excited?" she asked me.

"Of course I am," I laughed and let my own smile escape.

Mary hooked her arm around mine and we made our way down the stairs and onto the pavement outside.

We walked down the streets of London and after a minute of companionable silence Mary spoke, "Molly there's something that I have to tell you."

"What is it?" I looked over at my new friend worriedly for a moment before my gaze fell onto something – someone – in the distance.

"I'm-"

I gasped and gripped Mary's hand tightly in mine.

"What is it Molly? I haven't even told you yet? Molly, you're hurting my hand. What is it, dear? Tell me," she pleaded as I stared ahead of me in shock.

Walking toward us was a man I never began to imagine I would see again, a man who was presumed dead. I tried to run but my feet wouldn't move. I wanted to scream but my voice seemingly forgot how to function. Even as a gun emerged from his coat, I still couldn't.

"Hello, Molly. Get in the car. Now."

**BOOM! Okay I am so sorry guys! You must wanna murder me now ahh! *hides under mountain of oreos* In other news, you guys seem to love Mary a lot! Sorry I had her be raped. I figured that her being a hugger and also a victim gave her more character development because it shows that she sort of holds people dear to her I guess. I'm probably not explaining this right but anyways, did you hear that Amanda Abbington (Martin Freeman's wife) is rumored to be Mary in Season 3? YAY! They're already adorable together lol! Also I'm super excited that I'll reach over 300 reviews! (or you guys might be lil poop heads and not review that would make me sad) Nonetheless I love you guys! I'm on break now (until the 8th) so updates will be much sooner! See you soon! (don't worry Molly and Mary won't be gone for long) Here have some pie to remedy your feels *eat minions. eat the pie of thine enimies* /twitch/**

**~Mel**


	47. Here We Go Again

**Hey all! Shoutouts!**

**JazzSambora- Haha now put yo hands up! Sorry, dear! I didn't know where to go with it at the time. Haha yes I am equally as exciting and we shall make fangirl noises together whilst raising our hands up ;)**

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**deadgurlagain- Haha I shall mourn for your poor shipper feels! :)**

**AdaYuki- So glad that you still love it after all this time! Thanks for the constant love!**

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**Empress of Verace- Because bad guys suck bawls xD Yeah needed to add some cuteness to a sad chapter. Yeah it would be so adorable! Thanks for the review, sweetie!**

**Zarius- You're welcome nonetheless! Is it bad that I could tell you are a writer? Thank you so much for your kind words! Off the charts? Stop you'll make me fall in love with you just like I do with all of my other reviewers! Ahh I'm you're go-to fic?! *swoons***

**Ash-dash1- Haha yes I did the same though I ate half of a caramel filled chocolate bunny that was like 6 inches tall, one inch thick and threw the rest out because looking at it made me feel guilty xD So glad you are loving my story! See you soon, dear!**

**videogamelover221- Aww that's alright dear! I'm just happy that you still like it :) Yes she is so pretty and they already love each other so hey they got chemistry obviously. Thanks for the review! ;D**

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**STORY TIME!**

Molly's POV

"Scream and you die," the man told Mary as he saw her eyes linger on the gun in his hand, her mouth already agape.

"Molly, what's happening?" she whispered in my ear, her grip on my hand increasing into an iron hold, unrelenting.

"J-just do what he says. If we try to run, he won't refrain from killing us,"I looked down at the shorter woman and tried to hide the fear in my own eyes. One of us had to be strong.

"I am so sorry, Mary," I muttered, my voice cracking slightly. She doesn't deserve this, no one does.

With a jerk of his gun, the man motioned for us to get in the car, the door already ajar. I slid in first and as Mary did, the gunman decided that she was taking too slow, and he pushed her head into the door frame where it connected painfully. She winced and cried out softly. Tears had already started to form in the corner of her eyes and she quickly blinked them away as best she could once she saw the man sit down across from her. He closed the door with a loud bang and yelled to the driver an address. Mary flinched and I grasped her hand again tightly as the car lurched to life and drove smoothly through the streets.

"Nice to see you again, Molly. It's been so long," he pouted slightly. He wore a sharp black suit, but he didn't look comfortable; he looked like a boy trying to wear his father's clothes, trying to fill his father's shoes. It wasn't until now, though, that I realized how big he really was with a broad chest, thick arms, and wide shoulders that made his suit hang awkwardly there. He smirked deviously and his gun was propped on his knee, a long silencer attached to the end. His hair was no longer brunette, but black and longer as it slicked back and covered his ears. Yet his haunting green eyes still remained the same. If it wasn't for them, I probably wouldn't have recognized him.

"I thought you were dead. Moriarty said-"

"Newsflash," he said almost tiredly, "Moriarty lies. He is, was, a criminal mastermind. Now he wallows in self-pity in a jail cell because of you and your boyfriend. Or should I say fiancée…" he looked down at my hand that wore the engagement ring Sherlock had given me only a couple of days ago.

"Please, Thomas. My friend-" I tried to plead with him, only to be interrupted once again.

"She doesn't matter," he motioned at Mary with his gun, making her flinch again, "A liability. Moriarty thought that all were like chess pieces he slides on a board, and the outcome of the game is already known to him. Obviously he was wrong."

"Why do you speak so ill of him? You looked up to Moriarty."

Thomas rolled his eyes, "He was weak and tainted with love. He always became sidetracked whenever Moran walked into the room. I know what happened that day; the day Moran died. Moriarty sat there with Moran in his arms blubbering like a love sick fool. He could have killed you, Sherlock, and the whore. But no. He had to sit there and mourn the loss of his lover. Pathetic," he whispered.

My gaze remained on him and his on me. A flicker of how innocent and kind he seemed to be before when I thought he was helping me washed over my memory and vanished just as quickly. Now he just looked plain evil as if he was the ocean being flooded with oil and killing all of the life within.

"How did you become like… like this?"

A flash of pain and sorrow crossed over Thomas' face before it changed once again to the cold and calculated façade, "I don't have to explain myself to you, Molly. This is certainly not your place."

Neither Thomas nor I had acknowledged Mary's presence until she spoke for the first time since being forced into the car.

"W-What are you going to do with us?" she questioned, her voice near a whimper.

Thomas smirked and leaned forward in his seat, his gun hovering in front of her stomach and his fingers playing with the ends of her hair as he whispered in her ear, "This isn't your place either. I suggest you shut up. Unless you want to die of course, than please go on."

Mary didn't speak for the rest of the ride, only sobbed lightly, held my hand, and rested her other hand over her stomach.

Sherlock's POV

The internal need to get back home to Baker Street frightened even me. As the cab rolled to a stop in front of my flat, I shot out of it as quickly as I could, throwing the money through the open cab window. I took the steps up to 221B skipping three each time which only called for bringing my foot down six times.

"Molly," I called out, as I opened the door carefully, my hand resting on the gun strapped to my belt. There was no response. Panic set in and I checked every room in the flat, my bedroom, John's. No one was here.

"Mrs. Hudson!" I yelled.

In a matter of seconds, I heard her door shut and the slight clack of her heels coming up the stairs.

"Yes, Sherlock, dear what is it?"

"Have you seen Molly? Or Mary?"

"They left about an hour ago to go gown shopping," Mrs. Hudson smiled, "She's going to look lovely I just know it."

"Please retire to your flat Mrs. Hudson."

"Is something wrong, dear?" she asked, taking a cautious step nearer.

"Please!" I snapped, "Go away!"

She sighed as she turned around and did as I asked. She may think I was being cruel to her but I saved her from worrying for now. I always dreaded whenever Mrs. Hudson ever got into a fit because it was always so difficult to calm her back down again. My mobile was in my hand before I realized it and I pressed one. Using speed dial, I put my phone to my ear as I paced.

"Sherlock? I'm at work. What's so impor-"

"Get to Baker Street. Now."

"I'm in the middle of-"

"Now, Damn it!" I yelled and pressed my thumb hard onto the red end call button. I tugged at my hair, pulling it because I thought it would prevent me from screaming or better yet crying. I sat down for all of two seconds before I got back up again. My mind was reeling and I couldn't stay still. My hands shook and sweat collected at my brow. Everything was supposed to be safe. I had told myself that over and over again hoping, praying that it would always be true yet this happened. I felt as if I was slapped across the face by reality and reality was an awful sight to see.

"Sherlock?" John called as he made his way up the stairs. He emerged and looked annoyed, "You're going to get me fired someday, do you realize that? You can't call me in the middle of…" John trailed off as he finally looked me in the eye.

"Sherlock?" he asked slowly. He looked around and connected the dots, "Where's the girls?"

"Mary?" he yelled, "Molly?" yet there was still no answer.

"Where have they gone?" he seethed and his hands balled into fists. In one swift motion they were on me, gripping my coat collar, "Where's Mary? Where is she, Sherlock? Where's my girlfiend?!" he shouted as a vein on his forehead threatened to burst.

"They've been taken, John. I don't know why or by who," John let go of me then, but his hands remained in fists at his sides.

"We killed everyone. Everyone who was in Moriarty and Moran's web, they're all dead," a sudden realization came over me, "Unless…"

"Unless what?" John questioned as soon as I had said the word. He looked desperate now and I could tell that John had strong feelings for Mary. He loved her even if they had only known each other for four weeks and been dating for all but two.

"Thomas."

"Who's Thomas?"

"The hitman who was assigned to Lestrade. Moriarty said he was dead but… we never found a body. I just took his word. I shouldn't have-"

"Sherlock stop blaming yourself. Let's just-"

John was interrupted mid-sentence when he heard the tone of my mobile. I grabbed it greedily from my pocket and answered without speaking.

"Sherlock?" It was Molly and her voice was scared.

"Molly, Molly," I said her name like a reverend prayer and sighed with relief, "Are you alright? Did he hurt you, hurt Mary? Is it Thomas?"

It was then that I heard Molly scream my name as if from a distance as the mobile had seemingly been ripped from her hands.

"Hello, Sherlock," Thomas' pleasant tone sounded through my ear and made me shudder. The fact that a man in his state of mind could seem so polite and pleasant worried me of his sanity. I turned on the speaker phone and put a finger to my lips, telling John to remain silent.

"Don't hurt them, Thomas. You don't have to do this. Please."

"How about we skip the part where you try and make me change my mind because Sherly, that is not going to happen," he made a short laugh, "Now come and meet me. We have much to discuss."

"Where?"

"Have your brother track your dear fiancée's cell. I'm sure he already deemed it suspicious."

"How do you know that Molly and I are engaged?"

"There isn't much that gets past me, Sherlock. You'll come to learn that. Bring John as well. He's just as important in this as you are."

There was a shout of John's name, seemingly from Mary, a sound like someone being smacked, and the line clicked.

I sent a rapid fire text to Mycroft and within seconds he responded, telling me exactly where Molly's phone was. John fumed and his knuckles visibly whitened. John quickly bounded up the stairs to his room and came back down, gun in hand.

"I'm going to kill him," he hissed as he loaded his gun with bullets, a little too enthusiastically, "I'm going to kill the bloody bastard."

"John, please-"

"Don't you dare tell me to calm down!" he yelled and holstered his gun, "Not you. You understand exactly how I'm reacting."

I took a cautious step towards my friend, "I did the same thing, John. I reacted the same way. But you _do _need to calm down. If we go in there and you're on edge than how am I supposed to know what you may do? How am I supposed to know if you have my back?"

"Of course I will," he said, annoyed and angry.

"You will but you won't be focused. If something goes awry you have to be there for me and I you. You can't be preoccupied with worry; it makes for bad outcomes. Do you understand?" I enunciated.

John nodded his head furiously and breathed, "Yeah. Yeah I get it."

"We're going to do this right. With backup," I said and brought my phone back out of my pocket once again, "Mycroft has already been informed, obviously. Now for Lestrade," I dialed and it rang.

"Can we really afford to wait any longer?"

"Yes we can. He wants us most of all. No more harm will come to the girls I assure you."

"Hello?" Lestrade asked.

"Yes, Detective. Molly and Mary, John's girlfriend, have been taken by the hitman assigned to kill you."

"Bloody hell. Where are they?"

I told Lestrade the address, assured he had it correct, and hung up as soon as possible. Lestrade would ask more questions and this, we couldn't afford to take time to do.

We both were already dressed in our coats. Now armed, we bounded down the stairs of Baker Street and emerged onto the pavement. Thankfully, we caught the attention of a cab in the matter of a minute. I quickly barked out the address at the cabbie and the car lurched forward into traffic.

**BOOM! I know I can hear you guys going "oh my gawd stahp my bbys!" Hush my children. Also I'd love to know if any of you survived the Mishapocalypse?! It was a big thing on Tumblr (my Tumblr is by the same name, avatardsherlockian) for April Fools and every post today was Misha Collins the lovely actor from Supernatural. Needless to say, I hit post limit in two hours and I couldn't post anything for a very long time which made me grumps. So I wrote this while I was grumps. God have mercy on your poor shipper souls. Amen.**

**~Mel **


	48. The Most Dangerous Game

**Hey guys! Wassup? Time to respond to lovely people who are lovely. GAWD.**

**Rocking the Redhead- Haha whoops! I didn't know if I was gonna bring him back but look. I DID. Thanks so much for the review, dear!**

**Zarius- Haha yes he would! Thanks so much for your kind words and I think you mean psychopants? **

**JazzSambora- Haha no we are not out of line we're just bored! God do I love Misha though omg. Haha thanks so much for the review!**

**Aviatress- Haha yes I saw that one too! Oh god did I love that day though haha! Whoops how do you calm an angry Aviatress down?! HALP.**

**Renaissancebooklover108- Misha is great and a wonderful actor! You should watch Supernatural because it's fantastic. Thanks for the review, darling!**

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**AdaYuki- Haha I try to write as soon as possible, I really do! Thanks for the constant love, dear!**

**Ash-dash1- Wait what's your url? Haha omg I'm glad I make you conflicted! That means I'm doing my job xD I would have gladly shared it with you too. Thanks so much for the review, dear!**

**Empress of Verace- Haha just slip that stuff in reeal stealth like yeah xD Ugh I don't know! *nervous face* Thanks for the review, sweetie!**

**Guest- Haha yes that is the face of everyone who was involved! Thanks so much for your kind words! :)**

**gforcejedi- Haha you got DAT right! Hhaha I loved the Mishapocalypse so much omfg. Best. Day. Of. My. Life. Period. **

**AIGHT PEEPS SHIT'S GOING DOWN.**

Molly's POV

I stood in middle of a large room in front of an old crumbling pillar, my arms wrapped around it with rope. Mary stood in the same position on another pillar about five feet away. Her head was bowed and her once pretty hair was now damp with grime and sweat concealing her face, just as mine was. The room felt like an oven and the air was hot and sticky. Mary had gotten a good slap across her face, and due to it and exhaustion, she passed out. I looked around, noticing the red drapery adorning all of the large high windows and the dirty white tiled floor. Furniture lay hidden under white dusty sheets and were pushed up against the wall. The place seemed to be abandoned and in disrepair for quite some time. My arms ached and my throat hurt from calling out for help.

I heard Mary moan and I looked over at her hurriedly, "Mary! Mary, wake up! Mary!" I hissed at her.

Mary's eyes shot open and they darted this way in that with panic. Where Thomas had slapped her, was a small cut and the blood was already dried. Her eyes fell on me and they softened ever so slightly. Her lower lip began to tremble slowly, "Oh, Molly," she breathed.

My voice took on a serious tone, "Mary. Calm down. We are going to be fine. We will get out of this alive. Sherlock and John are coming, I promise."

"But if he does anything to me-"

"He may hurt you but he won't kill you. I won't let him."

Mary shook her head furiously, "You don't understand, Molly," she whined, "It's not my life I'm worried about," Mary said and sustained her tears with a whimper.

I sighed, "Mary, I'll be fine."

"I love you, Molly, but I wasn't talking about you."

"Mary I don't understand what you're talking about."

Mary's eyes started to well up with tears and she bit her lip, "Molly, dear, I'm pregnant."

My chest tightened and I sucked in a breath, "Oh god, Mary. Is it John's?"

"Of course it's his. I found out just yesterday. I haven't told him yet because I thought he wouldn't want our child. This early in our relationship, I thought for sure he wouldn't. But now I wish I…" her voice trailed off as she sobbed lightly.

I was about to console the woman before Thomas came striding in, knife in hand. He twirled it about in his hand expertly like a drummer would with a drum stick.

"I think it's time to get the game started, don't you?" He walked up to Mary, his knife threatening her throat. She tried to back away from him as much as possible, but to no avail. He walked behind her. And he cut the rope. Mary stood there in shock and rubbed at her wrists. She had the good sense not to run because she didn't question if he knew how to throw a knife directly into her spine and kill her in seconds. He walked behind me and did the same and I hesitantly walked the short distance to Mary, putting a hand on her shoulder until she finished wiping the tears from her face.

She clung to my side as I looked over at Thomas, "Wh- what are you doing? Are you letting us go?"

Thomas made a short laughed and stared at me, his dark green eyes digging further into me with every passing second, "Of course not. The fun hasn't even begun," he twirled the knife in his hand again, "Have you ever read the short story _The Most Dangerous Game?"_

Molly shook her head at him hesitantly.

"A man named Rainsford falls off his yacht and finds land and shelter with Zaroff, a big game hunter. Zaroff likes to hunt anyone that shelters themselves on his island so he does the same with Rainsford. Rainsford wins in the end, of course, because it's fiction and the main character always wins. But this is real life. Zaroff and I have one thing in common though; we both agree on the fact that the best and most dangerous game is always man. Or woman."

"So you're going to hunt us? Like animals?"

"Now you're getting it," he clapped his hands together once, an appraising smile on his face. It was wiped away just as quickly, "You will have a five minute grace period. This manor is surrounded by woods that stretch out in all directions. There are many roads leading outward and all but one will actually lead to any sort of exit. Getting away will not be easy."

"Why are you doing this to us?" Mary asked with pity in her voice as if she was trying to help him realize that what he was doing was wrong. She no longer clung to my side and her hands were in fists at her side. Her face held no evidence of past crying and she looked at Thomas with coldness in her eyes.

"Because it's fun."

Mary fumed and made to rush at him but I held her back, "You sick son of a-"

"Time starts now. Get your asses in gear ladies because the game has only just begun."

Sherlock's POV

"Are you sure this is the right address, mister?" The cabbie asked, leaning forward in his seat to look at the dense woods in front of him.

"Yes thank you," I got out of the cab and handed him the fare. John slammed the door behind him, anger and worry riddling his face. The cabbie pulled out and I waited until he was out of sight to unholster my gun. John and I ran up the long dirt path for close to five minutes before the spires of a haunting manor came into view. By the time we reached the front steps we were both breathing heavily. For safety's sake we took a minute to catch our breath because panting was a large disadvantage towards being stealthy and quiet. Stealth was out of the question now once we realized that the door was locked and we were forced to kick it in.

"Next year, I'm buying you a lock picking kit for Christmas."

"Agreed," I responded as we drew into the foyer. John went up on the left side of the double stairway to search the other rooms while I investigated.

Once John had returned empty handed, I told him of my findings, "The girls were tied to these pillars here," I said and pointed at the ones planted in the center of the room, "the rope was cut with a blade so he let them go or moved them. There is no indication of blood being spilled or evidence of it being scrubbed away so neither Molly nor Mary was injured to that extent."

"So where are they?" John asked, exasperated and nervous, telling from the way he would switch weight from one foot to the other every few seconds.

"Why would he let them go? Where could they possibly have…" my voice trailed off as I looked out of a high window at the trees below. I turned to John quickly, "Did you find anything of import? Anything at all?"

"There was a gun cabinet that was empty. It looked like it held a hunting rifle."

"Don't you see what's going on? He's hunting them, John. We have to find them before he does," I said as I now pounded down the porch steps and made my way towards the woods, "We have to be on high alert. No splitting up. Be careful of your surroundings and don't make a sound. We move slowly and carefully."

"Sherlock, I was in the army. I know all of that."

"Right," I nodded quickly.

"Sherlock," John caught my arm, forcing me to stop and face him, "Compose yourself. We aren't going in there with you like this."

I breathed in and out, calming myself slowly. I removed my gun from my holster once again and we entered the woods. The trees were tall and the air was thick with moisture. I stuck close to the inside line of the tree line to prevent us from getting lost, while John stuck to higher ground and kept himself in my sight. With every passing moment, the sky became darker and the chances of finding them alive became slimmer. It was then that I heard a whimper and rustling. A woman ran quickly and ducked into the alcove of a tree. I couldn't tell who it was but my heart stopped and I stopped until I broke out of my reverie and walked carefully towards them. A head peaked around the corner, vanished and came back slowly. Still to my relief, it was Mary but I had been hoping for Molly.

"Mary, it's Sherlock. You can come out now. It's safe, I promise."

The woman practically leaped out of her hiding place, bracing herself on the tree with one hand and hauling herself up out of the alcove, "Sherlock," she breathed and collided her body into mine desperately. I wrapped my arms around the woman soothingly and rubbed her back until she stopped mumbling.

I slowly broke away from Mary and held her by the shoulders, "Mary. Where is Molly?"

"We- we split up. Well I split up from her actually."

"Why would you do that?" my tone was even.

"I didn't want to slow her down or get her killed by being too noisy. When her back was turned, I left her. I'm sorry, Sherlock. I should have stayed with her I know…" she stopped mumbling once she had looked around her.

"Where's John? Where is he?"

Panic set in and I looked about. I ran up to the place I had saw him last and there was no sign of him.

"He was right here. He was right here just a minute ago. I swear to you he was," a hand ran shakily through my hair.

"John!" Mary called, "Jo-"

I was next to her in seconds as my hand clamped over her mouth.

"That is how you get yourself and others killed. I'm going to remove my hand and you will politely shut up, yes?"

Mary nodded once and I did as I promised.

It was then that a single rifle shot rang throughout the woods, reverberating off the trees.

**BOOM! So yeah I read the Most Dangerous Game in Writing class and it was one of my favorite stories mostly because of the sadistic-ness of it I guess. I also am nearing the big 50th chapter and I was wondering what you guys think I should do to celebrate? Be reasonable, k? K.**

**~Mel**


	49. Thomas the Martyr

**Hey all! This would have been posted hours ago but I was playing Bioshock: Infinite *shy face* Shoutouts!**

**Renaissancebooklover108- Yuhp I really like the story too! So glad you appreciate my intertwining of literature. If thats what I did idk xD Thanks for the review, dear!**

**JazzSambora- Haha yes she is! Muhaha! I'm glad I made it a shock to most people haha! Never apologize! All of those omgs just tell me you are excited/shocked xD Just never say omg in public like I hate when people are all like omg wtf lol and I'm just like no. Just no. Thanks so much for the review!**

**gforcejedi- Well you won't find out in this chapter! WHOOPS. xD Thanks for the review!**

**Empress of Verace- No longer shall you fear ;D Haha no problem dear! Of course you did cause your smart duh pfft. xD**

**Sherlocked01- Omg no dribble on haha! Your heart won't hurt much I promise bby xD Aww you're so sweet! Thank you so much!**

**Rocking the Redhead- It's just a short story and it's quite good. Oh yeah I saw that episode! I love Criminal Minds and Reed YUMM. Molly's pretty badass down there so woah be prepared xD**

**AdaYuki- Haha sorry it was so late, dear! Thanks so much for the constant love :D**

**Zora Arian- It's by Richard Connell and it's fantastic. Haha sorry bout your feels xD Thanks so much for the review!**

**Aviatress- Well you'll have to read and find out who gets shot/who shoots! Tell me what you think of the outcome :D Thanks for the review, dear!**

**ElliePLummer- Maybe maybe not...xD Thanks so much for the review! :)**

**Zarius- I'm not sure how I'd fit that into the next chapter seeing that I know what the next chapter will center around once I read the suggestions from other people and one was more popular *wink* check the reviews and you'll know xD. Obviously they'll have babies so that is when I'd do that. Thanks for the love, dear!**

**deadgurlagain- Haha yes I do I FEED on them! Yuhp he got peeved and it made his adorable little butt shake in anger... wait what? Okay I don't know what I say half the time xD Thanks for the review, dear! And NO. No double wedding xD**

**Frostybutt- hey bro you dead? No? K cool *whew* You're welcome, peasant muahahahaha! Anyways, thanks for the review of course! :D**

**THIS IS IN NO ONE'S POV. I WRITE THIS SHIT AND I AM TOO LAZY/UNPROFFESIONAL TO KNOW THE NAME FOR THIS ASDFGHJKL;**

As Molly ran through the woods she could hear something in the distance and panic set in. Molly's heart pounded violently, part from the fear and part from running. She rested her back against a nearby sycamore tree, wiping her face with the back of her hand. The cardigan she wore was now torn and ruined with dirt as were her jeans and her hair stuck to the back of her neck with sweat. Molly had fallen more times than she had wished and her arms were cut from branches on the ground where she had braced herself. As she neared, she recognized the sound as voices and they came from a short distance away. Every bone in Molly's body told her to stay and hide but she couldn't. She wouldn't. Her feet carried her towards the sounds origin and she walked cautiously, constantly checking her surroundings. Molly heard the voices again, more clearly now, and hurried to hide behind a large oak's trunk. She poked her head out slowly and there in the clearing was John and Thomas. Thomas was kneeled over John's limp body, his hands gloved red with blood. Only a few feet away, lay John's pistol.

* * *

One minute, John was walking mere yards from his best friend. The next his hand was bent violently and his gun fell to the ground. John let out a yelp of pain that was soon cut short when a strong arm wrapped about his neck and cut off his air supply. Soon enough, John passed out. He woke in the middle of a clearing, his hands handcuffed behind his back and a gag in his mouth. Thomas stood above him and he looked down at John with amusement. A wicked grin spread about the man's face and he squatted down next to John. Thomas pointed his gun at his face and poked him in the cheek with it. He laughed hauntingly at John, who squirmed slightly away from Thomas. John wished so badly to punch the daylights out of him, but Thomas made sure that he couldn't do that. John scolded himself internally for allowing Thomas to get the drop on him, yet his mind had been in a different place at the time. The need to find Mary grew in him like a weed with every passing minute and now as he lay in the dirt, helpless and alone, that seemed like a distant miracle. Thomas circled around the army doctor slowly and to John's surprise, he holstered his gun. Fear rose up in him like bile as Thomas revealed a knife that he had concealed behind his hand. The blade was sharp and winked at John in the little light that the sky still held.

"I've had enough of talking," Thomas poked his knife in the air angrily, "This shit is tiring. Who even gives speeches before they kill someone? Well, Moriarty did," Thomas made a curt laugh and scratched the back of his neck with the blade effortlessly.

John was confused. Thomas seemed like the sort who was completely calm on the outside, even lackadaisical, but on the inside rage boiled up and that much was evident by the wild look in his eyes. Before John had the opportunity to move, even blink, Thomas was kneeled over him. The knife was grasped between both of Thomas' hands almost hungrily and he raised it over his head. John thought that his life would flash before his eyes, but that never happened. Instead John wriggled helplessly under Thomas and all he could feel was fear until he was welcomed with another feeling. Pain. The blade sunk into his abdomen and he tried to scream out in agony, but the gag still remained in his mouth. The Kevlar vest that John wore under his shirt helped some, but not enough. Blood began to pool on his stomach and Thomas waited for an excruciating amount of time before he brought the blade down once more. John's head came off the ground briefly as the final blow hit him and he could already feel blood gurgling in his throat. And then the darkness came for him.

* * *

Thomas wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, smearing blood upon it in the process. Molly licked her lips and she peered out from behind the trunk once again. Molly wished she could run out and grab the gun. But she couldn't. She never wanted to experience killing someone again, but did she really have a choice? Before Molly realized that she had an ounce of courage, she emerged from her hiding place.

And she crashed into Thomas. Molly backed away quickly, making to run, but he caught at her arm roughly. He pulled her back towards him and gripped her upper arms with a painful force. Molly's self-defense training kicked in and all of the scenarios Sherlock had taught her snapped back to memory. Thomas' hands were already slick with blood and he was coming off the 'high' of killing someone. Molly pushed on his chest, hard, and she wrenched her arms free of his grasp. Thomas grabbed her hair and yanked and Molly cried out in pain. She forgot about it almost instantly, and dug her nails into his hips, bringing him down and connecting her knee into his groin. Thomas grunted with annoyance and he stumbled back slightly. His hand was still gripping strands of her hair and Molly tumbled down to the ground. Dots spotted her eyelids as her head smashed into a tree root, and she soon regained her senses. She scrambled backwards towards the gun that lay a measly two feet away and the tips of her fingers brushed over it. Before Molly could grip it in her hand however, her leg was yanked violently and the pistol was left abandoned. Thomas was on top of her now his hands around her neck. Molly pushed his face away, yet his fingers remained where they were. Molly remembered her lessons and she jabbed her fingers into his eyes. She then tangled her fingers in his hair, the other gripping his chin and brought his head downwards and twisted at the same time. Molly held him in the neck twist that Sherlock had showed her so many times before and she pulled her leg up, rolling over sideways and freeing herself from his clutches. She managed to get to her feet and her hand wrapped around the gun. She pointed it at Thomas and he still rushed at her. She told him, yelled at him, to stop, but he still came at her and she had to, didn't she? Her hands shook, she sucked in a breath, and she fired. The bullet lodged into Thomas' shoulder, sending him reeling backwards. Molly's ears hummed, her mouth felt like sandpaper, and it took her a minute to come back to reality. Thomas clutched his shoulder greedily and John's dry blood on his hands was now covered with his own. John. Molly's legs gave out from under her as she kneeled next to John. Her eyes were brimmed with tears and she hastily pulled off her cardigan, pressing it down on the stab wound. John coughed up blood and it soaked the collar of his shirt.

His eyes glanced over her once, "Molly," he choked, "Mary? Where-"

Just then, Mary and Sherlock ran into the clearing. Mary collapsed behind John the same way Molly had done and pulled his head into her lap.

"I'm here, sweetie. I'm here," she breathed and tears started to take form in her eyes again as she raked her hands through his dusty blond hair soothingly.

John's weak hand grazed Mary's cheek lightly, "I love you," he gasped.

Mary touched her forehead to John's, "I love you too. So much."

Mary's tears fell onto John's face and John began to cough up blood once again. Now was the first time that Sherlock and Molly locked eyes on each other as Sherlock knelt beside her and took over. He removed his scarf, tossing the soaked cardigan aside and pressed it into John's stomach. John hissed in pain as Molly wiped his blood on her jeans. She wrapped her arms around Sherlock's neck and buried her head in the crook of his shoulder. She barely registered the shuddering gasps from Thomas and when they had ceased.

"Molly," Sherlock whispered.

His deep baritone filled her body with much needed warmth.

"I thought I was going to lose you," Sherlock's voice broke slightly, causing Molly to peer up at him. His jaw was set, yet his eyes gleamed.

"Let's get John help," I told him simply, "Come on."

"Sh- Sherlock," John was back to consciousness.

"John, you're going to be fine. We're going to get you help."

John seemed to sober slightly and his hand came down to cover Sherlock's that lay on his wound, "Thank you," his voice was desperate.

After some failed attempts, John managed to get to his feet. He slung his arm around Sherlock's shoulder and held his side. Mary put a hand on his back as they walked slowly. As we made it out of the clearing, a mass of cars could be seen in the distance; police, ambulances, fire trucks. Molly instantly broke into a sprint and made it across the grass in a few minutes. The first person she saw was Lestrade.

"Lestrade," she gasped.

He wheeled around at her voice and his eyes lit up with relief, "Molly thank goodness you're alright," he smiled.

"John," she said, "He's been stabbed. Twice."

His smile vanished and he barked orders at the paramedics. A gurney rolled past her into the darkness.

"Are you alright?" Lestrade asked her.

"Yeah, yeah," she waved her hand at him.

"Then give me the gun."

Molly looked down at her hand. Still clutched in her grasp was John's pistol. The gun she used to kill yet another man. She nodded quickly and handed it over to Lestrade. He rubbed her arm reassuringly and nodded his head at something behind her. She turned to see John being rolled towards her, Mary stuck to his side, but that wasn't who Lestrade had motioned towards. It was Sherlock. He wiped his bloody hands on his coat and he looked spent. He smiled weakly at her and that was when she broke into a stupid grin. She ran towards him, no longer able to bare the distance between them, and launched herself into his arms. Her legs wrapped around his waist and he held her there as he laughed at her. She breathed him in and she realized that Sherlock would always be her home.

"I missed you so much," Molly said into his shoulder.

"I know. I did too."

"Is John going to be all right?" Molly inquired, hesitantly.

"He always pulls through. He's a fighter."

Molly sighed with reassurance and brought her head up to cover Sherlock's lips with hers, desperately. He held her protectively and lowered her slowly to the ground. As they broke apart, Sherlock searched Molly's face.

"Molly, love?"

"What is it, Sherlock?"

Sherlock held her by the sides of her face and he looked at her, "Can we get married a bit earlier?" he asked, a grin protruding from his lips in an almost boyish manner.

Molly laughed giddily at him and crushed her body into his again, bringing his lips down to hers once again.

"Of course we can."

**BA-HA-HA-HOOOM! Yeah dat's right. Wow he lived like 42 chapters gold star Thomas. I named the chapter Thomas the Martyr because the first chapter was called Saint Thomas so yeah I think it's clever. Do you know what is super duper awesome and cool?! I have 100 followers to this story omfg *melts* ILOVEYOUGUYS. **

**Important note:** Since I am nearing the 50th chapter of this fanfic, I would love if you guys would leave prompts for me in your reviews to celebrate. YAY! No AUs cause I don't have any experience in those and it should still be Sherlolly. Can be anything really, just not smut. If you have multiples than please only give me one or two! Try to keep it simple so I can make it my own. I might pick my favorite or do all/most of them depending on how many I get. If I don't pick yours don't feel offended, please! (Just watch no one will *tears*)

**Thanks guys! Have a great day and review please!**

**~Mel**


	50. Mr and Mrs Holmes

**Hey guys! Alright this chapter is huge! Almost 3,500 words whoops! Shoutouts!**

**AdaYuki- Well here it is! I hope you LOVE it!**

**Rocking the Redhead- Haha yesh! I love to write badass!Molly whoop! Thanks for the review, dear!**

**Zora Arian- Haha thanks! I'm so happy! That's alright. Your constant love is enough! Thanks so much for the review!**

**Aviatress- Shortly after posting, I realized that haha! Thanks for your help anyways lol. See you soon!**

**Renaissancebooklover108- No. She was never gone muahhaa! Haha mawage, sweet mawage! xD**

**Empress of Verace- Haha thanks I try ;D Yep I thought I was clever lol. There will be more interactions between Hooper Holmes families next chapter I assure you!**

**JazzSambora- Haha don't you mean biting? Or maybe you like that sort of thing hey I don't judge ;D Anyways, thanks for your lovely review! See you soon, dear!**

**SammyKatz- I know right! I love Molly so much omfg. I could legit talk about how great she is for hours. Anyways lol, thanks so much for the review! :D**

**Frostybutt- Haha that's cool dear. Stabby stabby?! That's a very _blunt_** **way to put it lol. I made a knife joke you should laugh ;D****  
**

**Zarius- Haha its actually spelled humongous but whatever xD Sorry no. I probably would have if I thought of it earlier but whoops! Sorry bout that! Thanks for the review! :D**

**deadgurlagain- Umm okay. Not sure if thats good or bad but okay... thanks for the review anways!**

**Third Person again (thanks Aviatress xD)**

**(**also I should point out that Mirielle, which was spelled Moreii in a previous chapter is Molly's sister and it's pronounce More-ray. One of my good friends has that name and I liked it so...**)**

Molly and Sherlock stood in the chapel three days later. The ceremony had not yet started and both bride and groom were confined to their own rooms. Molly slid herself into her wedding dress, and Mary fastened up her zipper with a gleeful smile. She had worn that same smile ever since John was discharged from the hospital yesterday night. Mary slept near John's bed the entirety of his stay and the image warmed her heart. It brought her back to the sweet memories of when Sherlock had done the same for her. He had held her hand to reassure her that he was still there, but also to reassure himself that she was too.

"Oh you look so beautiful," Mary cooed and hugged her friend. Molly looked at herself in the three mirrors in front of her. Her dress was traditionally white and had lacy sleeves that came down to her elbows. The first layer was of a mesh-like, transparent material and a silver band adorned her waist as her hair fell in curly, chocolate ringlets onto her bare shoulders. Mary had done her hair and makeup, and her lipstick was a perfect light pink shade that complimented her lips in a way that made them seem fuller. Her eyelids were coated in shiny, skin colored eye shadow that didn't stand out too much, and her lashes were black with mascara.

Molly looked at her sister in the mirror and turned to look at her, "No boys," she told her as she saw her sister sitting on the lap of her recently returned husband-marine from Iraq. He was wearing his army uniform and his ginger hair was beginning to grow back through his buzz cut. He was a large man and his arms were visibly rippled with muscles under the fabric of his shirt.

Her husband, Samuel, laughed deeply and heartily as he reluctantly slid his wife off of his lap, kissed her sweetly, and stood, "Sorry, Molly," he said and gave his sister-in-law a chaste peck on the cheek before he left.

"I'm very happy that he's back, Mirielle, but I don't want to be graced with the lovely sight of you two snogging minutes before my wedding," Molly quipped in a highly sarcastic tone and turned to look in the mirror again.

Mirielle smiled at her sister and hugged her around the waist, looking at both of them in the reflection, "You're so pretty, Molly," she sighed.

"Me? Look at yourself?" Molly turned and held their hands together between them. Her sister was beautiful to say the least; her hair was a very dark shade of brown and her doe eyes were a strange mixture of light and dark blue. Her skin was tanned, her figure slim, and curvy and she had high cheekbones as dangerous as Sherlock's. Molly had always been jealous of her sister's beauty.

"No," she commanded, "Don't do that. This is your day and everyone else here is ugly."

Molly's heart skipped a beat whenever Mirielle smiled at her. Mirielle had battled depression when Samuel had been gone for nearly a year. It became worse when she became pregnant, miscarried, and was told she could never have a child. Molly's sister was a kindergarten teacher and she loved children. Mirielle and Samuel wanted to adopt but it was too expensive.

Molly was about to laugh at her sisters ridiculous comment, when the door opened. Of all people, Molly didn't expect to see Irene Adler. She was wearing a small, dark green dress and a smile graced Irene's face as her eyes fell onto Molly. She placed a bouquet on the table next to her, already knowing that Molly would want to hug her.

"Irene," Molly gasped and gathered up her dress as she half ran over to the other woman, taking in the feeling of doing such a thing in heels, and resisted the urge to completely crash into her. Irene laughed shortly and wrapped her arms around Molly in response as Molly's arms came around Irene's shoulders.

As they pulled away from each other, Irene kept her hands on Molly's waist and looked a bit shocked, "You look stunning."

Molly was the one who laughed now, "Thank you, dear."

"I should have told you I was coming, but I wanted it to be a surprise. I hope it's alright," a worry line formed in between Irene's eyebrows as she removed her hands from the other woman's waist.

"Of course it's alright," Molly said and squeezed Irene's hand. Irene smiled with relief as a young man came into the room with a cart of small purple bouquets and left.

"Oh I almost forgot," Irene picked up the bouquet she had set down and turned back to Molly, handing them to her, "Do you recognize the flower?"

"No, but they're beautiful," Molly ran her fingers over the prickly-looking surface, but its texture was soft.

"It's the flower, Gomphrena. It means immortal, unfading, and unabiding love."

Molly looked up at Irene, slightly confused, "Who choose these?"

"Sherlock did."

"Of course he did," she breathed. Molly's heart skipped a beat and she resisted the strange urge to crush them against her chest. Her breath was taken away for a moment before she snapped out of her love-struck reverie and smiled slowly. She then noticed that the gomphrenas were mixed with pink calla lilies. In the back of her mind, she remembered that they were the first flowers that Sherlock had ever given her. It had been their first date.

Molly chose to hold back happy tears until the ceremony, and she set the flowers down with care, "Where have you been?" she asked Irene.

Irene hesitated for a moment before she responded, "Too many places. I moved around a lot," she said with an uneasy smile.

Molly looked at her friend quizzically as she sensed the lie in the tone of the woman she had learned to care for. She didn't question it, fearing that it would put her in a worrisome mood before her wedding.

Just then, Mrs. Hudson popped her head through the door, "They're ready for you, dear."

* * *

Sherlock walked up to the priest, smiled, and shook his hand. He didn't wish to converse with him so he turned away and walked down a few steps to talk to John who was sitting in the front pew.

"I'm… I'm nervous, John," Sherlock put his hands in his pockets to seem nonchalant to any onlookers.

John laughed, "Of course you are," he clapped Sherlock on the shoulder as he stood.

"What if I mess everything up? What if I forget everything I'm supposed to say?"

"You won't," John reassured him and crossed his arms in front of his chest, "Besides, Molly won't care if you make a mistake? She's here to marry you not to notice everything you didn't mention."

Sherlock ran his hand through his slicked-back hair, messing it up slightly, but not bothering to care. People began to file through the doors. Sherlock took his place again and looked down at everyone. John greeted Mary with a kiss and sat down with her in the front row, holding her hand and whispering in her ear. Lestrade, who had broken ties with his wife, didn't have anyone to sit next to, so he sat next to Mycroft. They were engaged in pleasant conversation and Mycroft laughed, much to Sherlock's surprise. Next entered a small, dark haired woman that could only be Mirielle, judging from her nose that looked identical to Molly's. Next to her was a large, ginger man who was in an army uniform who put his arm around her as they sat down next to another older woman with the same nose structure. Through the double doors entered a man. Sherlock's breath hitched as the man came up towards the altar and looked at him. Sherlock stepped down and met the man at equal height. Out of the corner of his eye, Sherlock saw Mycroft look up from his conversation and swallow, hard.

"Hello, son."

Sherlock was at a loss for words and it took him a moment to respond, "Dad-"

"I'm not your dad, I'm your father. Treat me with some respect, boy," he was still as threatening as Sherlock remembered from his childhood. His father's hair was grey and thinning and even at his age, he was still as strict as ever.

Sherlock sobered, "I have a name you know. It's Sherlock, in case you've forgotten. I hope the alcohol hasn't fogged that part up. The only thing you ever really remembered was how much of a disappointment I was."

"You still are," his father's voice stern, "Why did you go and marry a woman who has no stature? Marriage isn't for love. Love doesn't exist."

"That's where you are wrong," Sherlock shot back almost immediately, "Love is the best feeling in the world, you just haven't had the opportunity to feel it for yourself. Molly Hooper is her name. She is the gentlest person I've ever met. You can't even begin to realize how much we have been through together," he sighed with pity, "I'm glad you're here, dad. I really am. No matter how much you've done to me, how much you've berated my every decision, I still consider you my _dad_. You always will be, even when you wish you had fathered someone much more successful."

Before anything further could be said, Genevieve placed a gentle hand on her husband's arm, "Go sit down, William."

Sherlock's mother was a bit shorter than her son and her black hair, which was once startling, had touches of grey. Genevieve was always able to order her unruly husband around, despite her kind and warm nature.

He was slightly dumbfounded, "But-"

"_Now_, Will. Go talk to Mykie."

Sherlock smiled as he watched his father's back retreat into the small crowd of people. He smiled even brighter as his mother wrapped her arms about his waist and he ducked down to kiss her sweetly on top of her fair hair.

"You are much too skinny," she said once she had gotten a good look at him.

"Not this again, mother," Sherlock sighed jokingly at her.

"It's mummy to you, young man," she raised a teasing eyebrow, "I know I don't have to tell you this, but I'm going to do it anyway. You better be nice to that darling Molly. I haven't had the opportunity to talk to her just yet, but she seems like such a loving person. Treat her with care. And," she added as an afterthought, "Tell her that you love her. Everyday. That's what us women like to hear."

"Does dad ever tell you that he loves you?"

"It's a rarity, but when he does, it reminds me why I married the bastard in the first place."

Sherlock laughed and kissed his mother's cheek as the processional music began to play, "I will, mummy. I promise."

She touched his hand lightly and turned away, sitting next to his father who looked like he didn't even want to be there at all. Irene entered from one of the side doors, hastily and sat down in front of Mycroft. She spun around and winked at Mycroft who continued to scowl at her. She faced Sherlock now and blew a kiss at him. He rolled his eyes and let a small smile grace his face. A silence went over the room besides a man quickly hushing his young twin boys, who could only have been Matthew considering Molly's description of him and his children. Sherlock, who realized that his hands were in his pockets once again, hastily straightened himself out, and his bowtie. Everyone stood as the music grew in strength and the double doors at the end of the aisle opened. Out of it, emerged Molly with her arm wrapped around Lestrade's. It hadn't occurred to Sherlock that Molly was good friends with Lestrade and Lestrade smiled down at her proudly. As they came nearer and Sherlock could see her better and his breath shuttered as he took in the way the light poured in from the windows and rolled over her face. Now was the first time that she looked up at him and she smiled stupidly at him through her veil. Half of her face was covered with that smile the other with her veil and he laughed at her as his own smile grew. His eyes were already beginning to shine with tears but he quickly blinked them away, but she noticed. She always noticed. They reached the end of the aisle and Lestrade gave her a sweet kiss on the cheek and she returned the favor. He helped Molly up the few stairs that were in front of her and let go of her hand. He then turned his gaze onto the groom and Sherlock held out his hand. Lestrade shook it and gave him a quick hug, patting his back a few times.

Sherlock did the same and Lestrade whispered to him as they pulled away, "I knew you were a great man. Now you're a good one."

"Thank you," Sherlock said and nodded to him. Lestrade clapped him on the shoulder one last time before he returned to his seat next to Mycroft. Sherlock finally turned to Molly who had passed her flowers over to Mary. She took his hands between them.

"The flowers are beautiful," she whispered.

"So are you," he touched her cheek briefly before he joined his hand with hers again. It was her turn to pull her hand away as she brought her hand up and mussed his hair out of its slick-backed look. A quiet, noticeable awe sounded and both of them knew it had been Mary.

The priests voice erupted and scared Molly briefly before the smile on her face returned, "My friends, we are gathered here today to celebrate one of life's greatest moments. We are here to give recognition to the worth and beauty of committed marital love, and to add our best wishes to the words which shall unite Sherlock and Molly in marriage. The commitment that the two of you are about to make is the most important commitment that two people can make. You are about to create something new, the marriage relationship, an entity that never ends. As you stand here today, are you now prepared to begin this commitment to one another?"

Both Molly and Sherlock responded in unison, "I am."

"Have you come here freely and without reservation to give yourselves to each other in marriage?"

"I have," Molly said as Sherlock allowed her to respond first and he replied with the same thing shortly afterwards.

"Sherlock and Molly, I would ask that you both remember to treat yourself and each other with dignity and respect; to remind yourself often of what brought you together today," Sherlock squeezed Molly's hands, "Give the highest priority to the gentleness and kindness that your marriage deserves and needs. When frustration and difficulty assail your marriage - as these do to every relationship at one time or another - focus on what still seems right between you, not only the part that seems to be wrong. This way, when clouds of trouble hide the sun in your lives and you lose sight of it for a moment, you can remember that the sun is still there. Remind yourselves that when you lose sight of love, you can always remember that it is always there for you in the other's heart. And if each of you will take responsibility for the quality of your life together, it will be marked by abundance and delight."

The priest paused and said, "The couple will now say their vows," he stepped back and waited expectantly for one of them to start.

Molly's voice croaked slightly at first but grew stronger with time, "Sherlock Holmes. I've known you for over three years. I've been in love with you since day one and I couldn't have picked a better man to fall for. You are absolutely brilliant and you're one of the strongest people I've ever met. I can't wait to start this new life with you and I hope to spend the rest of my days with you. You've always been the one and only and I cannot even imagine another day without being your wife. You are my best friend. I promise to stand by you through thick and thin and I promise to care for you and love you forever," she bit her lip to calm her tears, "Forever and always," she nodded once, indicating that she was done.

Sherlock's hand slipped under her veil and he wiped her tears away before he began his own vows, "Molly Hooper. I must thank you for opening my eyes to love. Before I had met you, I thought that love didn't exist, that it was merely something made up to feel happy. I knew I was wrong when I slowly but surely started to fall in love with you. Once I began to care for you, I had no choice but to get sucked into your kindness. You are the world to me, Molly, and I never want to lose you. I can't fathom a day without seeing your smiling face or experiencing the gentleness of your heart. It is an honor to call you my wife and an honor to consider you the love of my life," Sherlock didn't hold back his tears now, and one trailed down his face. Molly didn't take it away because the fact that he was crying at all, was too beautiful for words.

"Sherlock Arthur Holmes, will you have this woman to be your wedded wife? Will you love and comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto her as long as you both shall live?"

He looked down at Molly, noticing how another tear had already strayed down her cheek, "I do."

Molly Anne Hooper, will you have this man to be your wedded husband? Will you love and comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto him as long as you both shall live?"

Molly's breath hitched slightly as she still tried to rid herself of shedding another tear, "I do. Of course, I do."

The priest smiled and said, "Now the ring bearer will present the rings to the couple."

John stood and walked towards them with a pillow that Sherlock recognized as the same pillow from Baker Street. In contrast to the army jack pattern, stood two silver bands, one with a medium-sized diamond shining up at them. They both took each other's ring and John smiled at them before he returned to his seat.

Sherlock repeated after the judge, "Molly, take this ring as a sign of my commitment and fidelity to you," he slid it onto her left hand, on top of her engagement ring.

Molly did the same, "Sherlock, take this ring as a sign of my commitment and fidelity to you," and she slid his band onto his finger and he noticed her hands were shaking faintly. Once his ring had been placed, he joined their hands together once again and held onto hers tightly.

The priest closed the book he was holding and held it behind his back, "Molly and Sherlock, in so much as the two of you have agreed to live together in matrimony, have promised your commitment to each other by these vows, the joining of your hands and the giving of these rings, by the authority vested in me by the great nation of the United Kingdom, I now pronounce you Husband and Wife. Congratulations, you may kiss your bride."

Sherlock reached up and pushed her veil back. He pulled her flush against him as he kissed her, bending her over as she wrapped her arms around his neck tightly. His hands turned into fists as he took the fabric of her dress in his hands just at the small of her back. Whooping could be heard and Molly laughed against Sherlock's lips as he returned her to her original upright position. When he had pulled his lips away, Molly looked up at him and cupped his face, kissing him one last time. After a moment they turned to the small crowd, their hands joined between them. Sherlock kissed the back of Molly's hand as they made their way down the steps and into a new life together, their friends and family throwing white rose petals at them.

"May I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Holmes."

**BOOM! Aight this was super long. The vows were written by me and the priest talk was written by me with a lot of help from some examples off the internet. Next chapter will be the reception and the Hooper and Holmes family will interact more. I've been sick for the past two days so sorry if things seem stupid. Also I wasn't entirely straight forward with the prompt thingies. Its a prompt for separate one shots from this story and any of my other ones. Here is the original rules/instructions:**

**(**Important note: Since I am nearing the 50th chapter of this fanfic, I would love if you guys would leave prompts for me in your reviews to celebrate. YAY! No AUs cause I don't have any experience in those and it should still be Sherlolly. Can be anything really, just not smut. If you have multiples than please only give me one or two! Try to keep it simple so I can make it my own. I might pick my favorite or do all/most of them depending on how many I get. If I don't pick yours don't feel offended, please!**)**

**K, thanks! *kisses each of your beautiful faces***

**~Mel**


	51. Only Up

**Hey all! Yeah so it's been a while. So sorry! The home stretch of school is coming and I was stressed with exams. Also had stomach flu for five days o.O I won't do any shoutouts because that would take more time and I want to post this as soon as possible. Thank you though, to everyone who reviewed I love you all! :D**

Their reception was held in a grand gathering place. The walls were embellished with silk drapery and the lighting was dim, giving the room a warmer feel. Placed in the center of the room was a dance floor, it's dark wood shining in the slightest way. A bar stood in the corner of the room and multicolored lights were fastened under the bar top. It was all very elegant, and the servers and bartenders wore traditional black vests. What stood out the most, however, was the grand chandelier hanging above the dance floor and it's crystals danced and played with the light it held. The chandelier, though, would not be the most beautiful thing in the room if Molly was there.

Sherlock and Molly sat in their limo on the short ride towards the reception. Well, not really sitting. With all of the fabrics of her dress, Molly still managed to perch on Sherlock's lap. It wasn't her idea, not entirely; he had lifted and placed her there. His arms wrung around her waist effortlessly. Their kisses were slow, as were their brains, and Molly wrapped her arms around Sherlock's neck. His hands yearned to trail upwards towards her zipper to undo the few layers of clothing that separated him from her but he didn't. They did, though, travel up to her face to hold her there before he placed one last long, sweet kiss to her lips. A word had not been spoken the entire ride and it remained that way, for they had arrived. The limo slowed and stopped, it purring slightly and Sherlock got out and made his way quickly to his wife's side of the car.

He opened the door and held his hand out, "Mrs. Holmes?" he asked, sporting a smile.

Molly looked up at him in such an innocent and beautiful way that Sherlock visibly stiffened and his breath hitched. When she looked up at him like this, whether it was now or another time previously, a lump in his throat would form and he would be rudely reminded how much he loved her, how she was worth the fight a million times over. He took her small hand in his large one and she was standing in front of him in all of her beauty. He kissed the familiar skin of her hand which was rudely interrupted by the shutter of camera. They both turned, fully unaware of the blond haired photographer a few steps away.

"H- Hello. Sorry if I ruined the moment. I'm your photographer," he held a hand out towards Sherlock, "name's Beecher," Sherlock shook his hand and Beecher simply nodded at Molly, his eyes lingering on her. He stood there for a moment, tugging on his camera's strap awkwardly before he remembered what he was going to say, "Sorry you're just very pretty," he commented towards Molly. She blushed and thanked him. Sherlock gave him a once over look which concluded his theory. This young man, despite the fact that he was attractive, was no threat to him or Molly; he was simply a nervous dork with scratched reading glasses. Reading glasses, Sherlock observed.

"Yes, so if I could direct you towards the steps here, that's where people usually start," he said sweetly. Even Molly could tell that he was an amateur. He was great, however. Good even. When he had called Molly Mrs. Holmes, at one point, she looked up at Sherlock with a grand smile on her face, him smiling too, and he snapped the moment. He collected the important pictures, ones that usually aren't taken; the pictures between the pictures. Once he was done, Sherlock excused himself from Molly and took him aside.

"I'm sorry if I offended you, Mr. Holmes, by calling your wife pretty," he said worriedly and swallowed, hard. Beecher wasn't a very big man and Sherlock's shoulders met at his ears.

Sherlock waved his hand at him, "Of course not, you'd be stupid if you didn't," he said with so much truth it shocked him for a moment before he sobered, "But you're not stupid. You appear to be marginally intellectual. You don't quite like this job, but you're good at it. Why's that?"

Beecher was taken aback for a moment, "Uhm it just…pays I guess. I'm not really sure what I want to be. It's unprofessional of me to talk about myself. I'm sorry."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "You're wearing reading glasses," he pointed out and pressed on, "They're scratched which tells me that you read much. But it's not novels. It is historical books and biographies that you are most interested in. Consider pursuing a career in… archivism perhaps," Sherlock helped and turned away. That was enough stranger interaction for one day, he decided. He vaguely heard Beecher call out a thank you as he took his wife's arm in his again.

"What did you say to him?"

"Oh nothing I just improved his life," Sherlock waved a dismissive, joking hand.

"You do that a lot don't you? Improve people's lives?"

"Just look at yourself," he told her as the pavement came to stop at large double doors towards the reception where dance music could be heard emanating from behind it.

"I set you up for that one, you know?"

"I know everything," he said coolly.

"See what I did there?" she asked, a smile at her lips.

"Yes, well played. Very good," he commented and laughed shortly at her, "Must we do this?" He motioned at the reception hall, "It's so trivial. I just want to go home with you," he whispered as he trailed his fingers lightly over her jaw.

"That's very sweet," she said, straightening his lapels, "But no. Our friends are in there and I still haven't met your family. Don't you want to meet mine?"

"Well…"

"Sherlock."

"I'm merely joking, of course I do," he said v_ery _sarcastically.

"That's what I thought," she told him confidently.

"Is this what married life is going to be like? Where you tell me what to do and I _have_ to do it?"

"Yes," she glared at him, "That is what marriage_ literally_ entitles. Obedience," she quipped.

"I'm in for hell, aren't I?"

One eyebrow rose in mock defiance, "The worst kind."

An hour later, Molly and Sherlock were sitting very close together at the main table, Molly's shoulder overlapping Sherlock's. Waiters presented them their desserts and Molly cooed at the decadent piece of red velvet cake with white frosting that was placed in front of her. Sherlock agreed to eat most of the courses presented to him and he felt full. He was about to dig into the dessert anyways when he remembered something.

"Aren't I supposed to rub this all over your face? Or something?" he asked uneasily.

"Rub what?" she questioned, confused.

"The cake…"

Molly cracked a smile and laughed, "I get to do it to you too," she pointed out.

"It is what it is," he grinned.

As they both stood, part of their cake in hand, everyone in the small group of people they loved turned to watch.

"Don't be sloppy," Molly said, "I don't want any of it getting on my dress. Or in my hair," she pushed her hair of her shoulder and Sherlock's throat tightened slightly.

"Yes, Mrs. Holmes."

With that, his hand smushed the cake on and in her mouth, moving his hand to cover the low part of her cheeks. When he was finished he added a dollop of frosting to the tip of her nose with one slender finger. Her messy mouth formed a smile and she did the same to him, making sure to get it in and on his mouth as well as his chin and _almost_ up his nose. The crowd whooped and clapped and Sherlock forced Molly into a sloppy frosting filled kiss. She laughed against him and the onlookers applauded louder than before. Sherlock kissed the frosting off her nose and licked his lips.

A waiter gave them serviettes and Sherlock rid Molly's face of cake while holding her jaw, "Thank you. That was lovely," Molly said sarcastically.

"Anytime. Really," he smirked down at her as Molly wiped the cake from his face in return.

With a smile he sat down holding a hand out for her to join him there once again. She obliged and sat partially in his lap as his arm wrapped around her waist and they continued to eat. They were barely left alone for five minutes before John clinked his knife against his wine glass. Sherlock looked down over at his table, which was a few feet away, and he glared at his friend who stood up uneasily. The group hushed and John began:

"Good evening, everyone. I'm John Watson, the best man, and I'm glad you all could make it here today to see my best friend marry another equally fantastic person. I'd like to thank the parents of the bride, Clarissa and Robert, rest his soul, and the parents of the groom, Genevieve and William, for raising the beautiful people we are here for. Of course, I'd like to acknowledge all of the rest of you, the friends and family, for making this day complete. Now, I know that most of you don't make it out often and only came here for the free food, so I've been asked to instruct you not to make a scene - I'm looking at two boys," he pointed at Matthew's sons, Dean and Henry, and the boys giggled.

John laughed too before he continued, "When I first met Sherlock Holmes, he told me that while he was flattered – he thought I was hitting on him – he would always be married to his work. Clearly that is not the case once he met dear Molly here. We've all seen Sherlock bring his intelligence to his work as a Consulting Detective and pursue his passion of solving crime. This became the driving force in a friendship between him in his bride. It's where the two found mutual ground – something in common you could call it. Two great brains would work night and day together and it was quite awe-inspiring to watch. Sherlock, here," he motioned at his friend, "Wasn't exactly…responsive. He soon got his big head out of his arse and found the ever-loving Molly Hooper there, finally thankful that he got the hint. Which wasn't very discrete, Molly. Just saying," Molly nodded her head in agreement and laughed, "Anyways, I am very proud of the both of you. You two are my most cherished people and that can only be said about very few. So, let us raise our glasses to the lovely couple. To Mr. and Mrs. Holmes. We wish you the best. Cheers!"

Red and white and yellow glasses were raised like stars and they picked up their own glasses in unison. _This was truly perfection_, Molly thought. She watched as Sherlock made his way over to John and thanked him. Sherlock hugged and clapped his best man on the shoulder. They both shared a laugh and a short conversation before Sherlock returned to Molly.

She faintly noticed the song that began to play until Sherlock held his hand out to her, "Care to dance?"

Molly gave him one of those smiles that made his heart leap and he felt a bead of sweat form on the back of his neck. It's not as if he was nervous; it's just an effect she had on him. He didn't quite mind the breathlessness once in a while. It wasn't until they reached the center of the dance floor that Molly recognized the song. The Scientist by Coldplay.

"I've never told you how much I love this song. How'd you know?"

"I just did," Sherlock replied simply and took Molly in his arms as they danced their first dance as a married couple.

"Sherlock…" She raised her eyebrows at him.

"Mary told me."

"That's what I thought."

The song was slow and Molly laid her head on Sherlock's shoulder. One of his arms wrapped around her waist and the other held her hand gently as he swayed them back and forth to the music.

_Nobody said it was easy_

_Oh, it's such a shame for us to part_

_Nobody said it was easy_

_No one ever said it would be so hard_

_I'm going back to the start_

"I don't want to go back to the start," Molly said.

"What did you say?" Sherlock asked, unable to hear her half mumbling into his tux jacket.

"I don't want to go back to the start," she repeated as she looked up at him, "The start was to easy. It seems like so long ago that I sang to you the night you first started living with me. It was so easy to do that. It just seems like it must have been a lie seeing what we've experienced. We've been through much together, you and I. I would never take any of our past away. It's what brought us here. It's why I'm in _this_ dress and you're in _that_ tux and we're dancing to _this_ song."

Sherlock looked down at his wife for a long time, "Just a song," he said, though he was interested in the way she thought about their past.

"I know, I know," she laughed and ran her hand higher up on his shoulder, "I just don't want to go back to the start," she whispered as she placed her head back onto his chest.

"I know."

After a few songs ended they were soon claimed by other people. Mary, who had danced with John the whole time, whisked Sherlock away. Sherlock thought it was strange to dance with anyone other than Molly, but he didn't mind much for Mary was quite a dancer and light on her feet.

Sherlock could tell that the song was nearly to a close, "When are you going to tell John?"

"Tell John what?"

"Don't play coy with me," he rolled his eyes, "Tell him you're pregnant, of course?"

She gasped lightly, "How did you know? I only told Molly. Did she-"

"No," he told her, "I figured it out for myself. Not quite hard. You have repeatedly ran your hand over your stomach throughout the night. I imagine you told John that you were feeling ill, but you 'couldn't possibly miss this.'"

"Are you going to tell him if I don't?" she asked, worried.

"It's your news to deliver not mine. He'll find out eventually, whether he sees signs or you tell him."

The song came to an end and they separated. Sherlock gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek before whispering in her ear, "Just tell him. He'll love being a father."

Mary whispered a thank you back and Sherlock then went out of his way to dance with all of the female guests from Murielle, Clarissa, his mother, to his sweet Mrs. Hudson, who began to cry.

After Mrs. Hudson collected herself, he glanced over to find Molly and John dancing, for lack of a better word, dorkily. He was interrupted from staring at his favorite people when a throat cleared behind him.

"Room for one more?"

Sherlock turned and was met with Irene Adler.

"Of course," he held out his hand and she took it. Irene held him close, too close for comfort and Sherlock was somewhat relieved when the song ended and she released her death grip on him.

"Sorry about that, I'm just-"

"You missed me. And Molly."

"Yeah I did," she confessed.

"Why didn't you visit?"

"I relocated. I told you that."

"But you never really did, did you? You felt you were getting too close or you were making too many attachments. You also felt you weren't needed or wanted for that matter. Well that wasn't true. It isn't true."

She crossed her arms in front of her, but not in anger, "I would ask 'how did you know' but no one really understands how you do anything really. Except for her," she nods towards Molly who is just barely in my peripheral vision where she always is.

"It's best if it remains that way, don't you think?"

"Whatever you say," she cocked a curious eyebrow at him, "You're such a mystery, Holmes," she said and unfolded her arms inching closer, "Shame I didn't get you when I had the chance."

She looked at him up and down once before she slid past him. He did feel her hand slightly pat his arse, however.

Sherlock decided to take a leave from the dance floor to join Lestrade at the bar, who appeared to be fairly inebriated.

"Heyyyy, Macarena!" They shouted.

Molly, John, and Mary all swayed their hips to the music and they laughed incessantly as they all poorly danced the ridiculously enjoyable Spanish dance. The song ended and they all screamed, "Heyyyy, Macarena!" one last time.

"Well that was fun," Mary said, and beamed up at John who hadn't realized how much his girlfriend loved to dance.

"I think that's enough for now," John replied, a bit breathless but a smile on his face as he placed a hand on Mary's shoulder, "You've had me dancing all night, dear."

"Alright, alright," Mary said and turned to Molly, "See you later, love," and she kissed her on the cheek.

"Can I talk to you for a moment, Mary? It will just take a second."

John pointed to their table and left the girls alone, "Sure, Molls, what is it?" she asked once John was out of earshot.

"Have you told him yet? Of your pregnancy?"

Mary looked back at John before answering, "I've been trying to find out the best time to tell him," Mary half-whispered.

"Do it now. He needs to know. If you wait too long he'll notice himself or he'll be upset once you do tell him. I'm telling you, Mary, he wants this."

She looked back at him again, "Okay. I'll do it. I'll tell you how it goes, yeah?"

Mary kissed Molly on the cheek again and left the bride alone. Molly smiled at her friend and looked around for Sherlock. He was sitting at the bar with Lestrade. _Men_, Molly told herself and laughed. A man caught her eye and she gathered up her dress and made her way over to the elderly man sitting alone.

"Hello, Mr. Holmes. We haven't gotten the chance to properly meet. I'm Molly Hooper. Well, Molly Holmes now," she said with a nervous giggle and held out her hand.

She heard the man say "Christ" under his breath and he looked up from his scotch to regard her. He looked at her up and down, studying her like a Holmes.

He stood a moment later, a broad but fake smile on his face, "Lovely to finally meet you," he lied, "William Holmes," he said and shook her hand, "I wish to speak with you. In private, about some… serious business."

Molly quirked an eyebrow, "Well how about we settle that over a dance?" she suggested.

"That isn't-"

"For god's sake, William, dance with the girl," a voice said behind Molly, "God knows you don't with me."

Molly turned and was met with Sherlock's mother, "Oh hello, Mrs. Holmes," she heard an audible sigh from William.

"Good to meet you, Molly. And please call me Genevieve. Later on you must tell me how you acquired my son's heart, but for now you will dance with my stubborn husband," the elderly woman patted Molly on the hand, gave her spouse the ultimate death glare, and left them to dance.

"What will you be having?" the bartender smiled at Sherlock.

"Nothing for me thanks, but a water for my friend here," he pointed at Lestrade and sat in the stool next to him, "How many has he had?"

"Two vodkas, a beer, and three scotch."

"Ffriend?" Lestrade slurred, "I thought you din't have ffriends."

"That was just something I said," Sherlock explained, "Why are you drunk, Lestrade?"

"Because alcohol is goood," he clarified, "And I'm sad," he pouted like a child.

"Not enjoying the festivities?" Sherlock asked as the water appeared.

"Reminds me of my wife. She din't wanna come. Prolly cause I kicked her out," he finished his scotch and motioned for another one, but Sherlock shook his head once at the bartender.

"You kicked out your wife? When did this happen?"

"Month ago," he slurred out, "She seemed sad and she was all like 'I'm sorry' but I just made her leave."

After a moment of silence he continued, "There isn't even anyone to hit on here, Sherlock," he waved his arm lazily at the people behind them, "You should have invited some single people for god's sake! I imagine Mrs. Hooper is out of the question."

"Mycroft is single."

"You've got a point there," Lestrade said with more seriousness than Sherlock anticipated.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and clapped his friend on the shoulder as he stood, "Just drink the water and go home. Have the nice bartender call you a cab, yeah?"

Lestrade turned in his seat to face Sherlock, "Thanks, mate. You're so nice," he said so seriously that he started cracking up.

"You are _definitely_ drunk, Greg."

"I know," he laughed and set his head on the counter seemingly for a nap.

"Perhaps the taxi now?" Sherlock asked the bartender.

He nodded in compliance as Lestrade began to audibly snore.

Mary made her way across the dance floor and reached their table. John sat back in his chair, scotch in his hand and a warm smile on his face when his girlfriend arrived.

"Sorry 'bout that, Mary. Just a bit tuckered that's all," he patted his lap after he returned his glass to the table in front of him.

Mary sat down gingerly in his lap, biting her lip slightly. She pushed the hair out of her eyes and looked down at him uneasily.

"John, there's something I have to tell you."

"What is it?" He asked as he wrapped his arms about her waist and left a sweet kiss on her shoulder.

Mary swallowed hard. So much was riding on how this turned out. Even though they had only been dating a month, Mary loved John. She couldn't quite explain the connection she felt with him, but what she did know was that it was almost instant. "He is so beautiful," was the first though that had crossed her mind when she saw the same John Watson that was holding her so carefully now.

"John, I'm pregnant," she blurted out quickly. Her hand came up to cover her mouth and she shut her eyes tightly. A few moments of silence later, John's hand came up to rest on her wrist. He removed her hand from her mouth and held their hands together tightly.

"Please. Please don't be upset John," Mary looked down at him desperately as tears began to form in her eyes.

"Of course I wouldn't be I just…" John took in a shaky breath and his eyes darted around the room as if he was searching for an answer somewhere.

His other hand pinched at his eyes and wiped over his face once, "I don't know what to say."

Mary remained silent and watched his expression carefully. She shifted uneasily in his lap as she saw him frown. She was looking at his mouth and didn't notice how his eyes were becoming increasingly misty.

"Mary, I-" he choked as a single tear ran down his cheek and he wiped it away, "That's… that's fantastic. That's fantastic!" a smile cracked over his face and Mary breathed a well needed sigh of relief as John hugged his girlfriend and kissed her all over her face.

Mary giggled, "All right, all right!" she swatted his chest and she looked down at him for a long time before placing a long kiss on his forehead, "Thank you so much for being you," she breathed.

Molly didn't mind dancing with Sherlock's father. He had a sophisticated form which impressed her. It was his animosity with Sherlock that she minded.

"What was it that you wish to speak about with me?" Molly asked after a minute of silence.

"Sherlock isn't one that falls in love or one that is fallen for. I need to know what your motives are. Why did you choose to marry my son?" he said bluntly.

Molly was slightly taken aback, "Because I love him. He protects me and I protect him. I don't understand what you are trying to ask, Mr. Holmes."

"Are you marrying my son for the stature? The fame? The money?"

Molly stopped dancing with the man altogether and took a well needed step away from him, "How dare you," she whispered, "Did you not just hear what I said?"

He stood his ground, "You didn't answer my question. Why is that?"

"Why is that?!" she repeated, her voice rising with anger, "Because it is the most ridiculous and insulting question I've ever been asked! I married your son because I _love _him. He married me because he _loves _me. Why is that so hard to understand?"

"That is simply something he's telling you. I'm sorry to inform you, but my son is using you."

"You are so ignorant," Molly laughed in pity and he frowned at her, "You clearly know nothing about your son. Where have you been all of his life anyways? What kind of father criticizes his son at every turn? What kind of father are you?"

William was about to retort back until he noticed the man now at Molly's elbow.

"What is going on here?" Sherlock asked.

Molly looked up at him, "I'm sorry, Sherlock, I lost my temper. This clearly isn't my place," she said worriedly, assuming he was upset with her. She tried backing away, but Sherlock was there to stop her.

"It's quite alright, Molly. My dad clearly doesn't know how to talk to people with respect, let alone his own son's wife," he turned to his father, "I would ask you to apologize, dad, but we both know you're too proud to do such a thing. Call me when you feel like being a decent human being, yeah?"

With that Sherlock grabbed Molly's hand and returned them to the dance floor. He held her close and was looking off into the distance. She knew him well enough now to notice the dance of flames behind his blue eyes.

"You shouldn't have done that, Sherlock. Just because he doesn't like me doesn't mean you have to have a worse relationship with him. Now you've left him angry. I don't imagine you'll speak with him in the near future."

"Are you kidding me?" he laughed and looked down at her, the flames dissipating, "I've been waiting to do that for years."

"It's a shame you feel that way," Molly told him.

The DJ announced that this was the final song. Their special day was almost over. Molly pulled Sherlock closer and it was more hugging than dancing. His arms wrapped around her shoulders, one hand pressing down the hair that he now kissed.

Molly looked up at her husband, "Where do we go from here?"

Sherlock's hand rested on her neck now, craning her face up towards his, "Up, Molly. Only up."

**BOOM! So that's whats up. Don't have much to say except for that Beecher is not my character. He was made by the fantastic man Brad Meltzer in the book the Inner Circle which I recommend. The character did wedding photography before he became an archivist. It was in DC but whatever! Love the character so much though. Again I apologize for the lateness of this chapter! Won't ever do that again guys ily**

**~Mel**


	52. Domesticity

**Hey! Okay it took a really long time to figure this out, but this will be the last chapter of this fic! I know right so sad. It also took me a long time to write this because I started writing a book. Yeah I know I need to sort out my priorities xD But that won't be posted on here or anywhere else just keeping it to myself. And now for shoutouts!**

**Frostybutt- Thank you! So sorry for being late with this! Hope you enjoy it :D**

**Renaissancebooklover108- Haha yeah I liked writing Lestrade drunk hehe. Thanks!**

**Rocking the Redhead- Thank you! I'm glad you liked it! I know daddy issues are sad EEP.**

**JazzSambora- Omg thank you! Aww thank you so much! I am doing better. That would be so kind thank you! :D**

**Zarius- Hehe you mean Hooper but actually you really mean HOLMES. Haha! married Molly=uwu so cute.**

**Empress of Verace- Aww thank you! I missed ya'll too! Especially you since you've been with this fic from the very start 3 I do feel better thank you for your concern! Sorry to be so late with this one. Hope you like it :D**

**Aviatress- Thanks! The "as always" made me smile. Whoops! Sorry :D**

**Ash-dash1- Haha I love how adorably shy that review was thank you so much you made me blush. :D**

**A fellow ranger- Are you talking about being trapped in a trunk part? Yeah that's from Psych! Ugh love that show! Stayed up all night for the sleepover lol. Thanks for the review :D**

**oOoOoOoOoOo**

**FIVE YEARS LATER**

Sherlock made his way up to 221B Baker Street. His jaw sported a purple-green bruise and he wasn't entirely sure if his rib was broken or not. John left his side to go to his own apartment in 221C, holding a hand to his blood matted hair.

"Are you coming up to join us for dinner?" Sherlock asked John.

"Yeah. We'll be up in a few."

Sherlock came upon a state of chaos. Toys were strewn across the living room, crayons were broken in two on the floor, and there was a brown sticky substance on the walls.

"It's just chocolate," Molly reassures him as she grabs a wooden train off the ground and puts it in the bin that's balanced between her hand and hip.

"Hey, daddy," Hamish says at Sherlock's waist. At the age of three, Hamish Holmes is always the tallest boy at the playground. His brown hair hangs into his eyebrows as he looks up at his father. When Molly and Sherlock had been trying to figure out a name for the boy, they joked about calling him Hamish. But an hour later, it was the only named that they deemed fit for their newborn son.

"Hello, Hamish," Sherlock squats down to receive a hug from the boy which soon turns into Sherlock carrying him over his shoulder. Hamish giggles as Sherlock picks him off his shoulder and holds him over his head, spinning him around and ducking him up and down like an airplane.

A minute later the boy says, "Enough, daddy!"

Sherlock plops his son on the sofa, "Help your mother pick up your toys."

"I don't wanna!" Hamish pouts.

"If you do, I'll tell you how I got this bruise," Sherlock points and the boys green eyes gleam with interest.

"Okie!" the boy bounces off the sofa and picks up a green army man at his feet.

Sherlock turns to Molly, "Where's Astor?" he asks, referring to their four-year-old daughter.

"Her bedroom. She's in a mood again and she'll only talk to you."

Sherlock holds Molly's face in his hands and kisses her sweetly on the lips before going upstairs. Sherlock knocks on the powder blue door before entering. Sitting on her bed, Astor Holmes brushes her doll's hair.

"What's wrong, darling?" Sherlock inquires as he crosses the threshold.

Astor peers up at her father with big blue-green eyes. She pushes her dark brown curly-straight hair behind her ear, "I got in a fight with Esme."

Esme, John and Mary's daughter, was slightly older than Astor.

"What did you fight about?"

"She accidentally ripped a piece of my doll's hair out and I yelled at her. I feel really bad."

"Esme, John, and Mary are coming up for dinner. You can apologize to her then."

Astor's face beamed with relief, "Great! Thanks, Sherlock."

"You know you can call me…dad or daddy."

"That would just make me sound like a child," Astor explains and waves it off as if Sherlock, an adult, couldn't possibly understand the ridiculousness of a girl her age to act like a child.

"You _are_ a child."

"False. I'm much more mature than any other person in my grade. I can read _The Giving Tree _all by myself," she declares which obviously means that the capability to do so grants her the status of mature.

"It sometimes scares me how alike you and I are."

"Spooky," Astor says and eyes her father.

After rolling his eyes, Sherlock picks his daughter up by the waist and carries her downstairs. John and Mary are already in the kitchen, helping Molly prepare dinner. Hamish chases Esme around the room with chocolate on his hand, the girl screaming whenever he gets too close.

Sherlock puts Astor down, "Hamish."

The boy stops dead in his tracks, takes one look at his father, and bows his head in shame as he walks past Sherlock and into the bathroom.

Sherlock leaves Astor and Esme to talk, and out of the corner of his eye, he can already see the girls hugging.

"Hello, Mary."

"Oh, Sherlock," Mary walks around the table to give Sherlock a warm hug and he reciprocates easily. Over the years, Sherlock has grown accustomed to Mary and her hugging habits. Actually, he doesn't mind embracing her once in a while for he had grown to like and care for his best friend's wife.

"Ooh. Nasty bruise there," she comments.

John pokes it with his finger, earning an irritated look from Sherlock and a slap to the arm from Mary. He readjusts his grip on the one-year-old Maia swaddled in his arms.

"I still can't believe that I was the only one who got punched today."

"You do have that effect on people," John points out making them both think of the times that John had punched him; before meeting the Woman and when Sherlock came back from the dead.

"Well played," Sherlock praises.

"Besides," John says, "I was thrown into a _wall."_

Sherlock feels a tug on his pants and he looks down, "Mr. Sherlock. Up."

He picks up Esme and the girl stares at him quizzically, "Yes, Esme?"

"Nothing'. Just looking into your soul."

Sherlock looks at the girl, "That's impossible. You can't _look_ at someone's soul."

"Well I'm doing it so it must be possible," after a short moment Esme says, "Just kidding I was staring at your weird eyes. You have a strange face did you know that?"

Alright that's enough, Esme," Mary plucks the girl out of Sherlock's arms and shakes her head at Esme, "Say you're sorry."

"Nope. Down."

Mary sets the girl's feet back on the ground and she runs off into the living room again.

"The stubbornness must come from you, John," Sherlock says, "And the...peculiarity…from you," he looks at Mary.

"I really can't disagree with that," Mary shrugs and John laughs.

They all finally manage to sit down at the dining room table. Astor and Esme receive their own chairs, leaving Hamish to sit in Sherlock's lap and Maia in a high chair.

"What's for dinner, Mommy?" Hamish asks, bouncing uncontrollably in Sherlock's grasp.

"Chicken pot pie," Molly answers as she brings the pan over and dishes out portions on each plate.

"YUM," the boy says and his eyes roll back in pleasure before he even gets in the first bite.

Meanwhile, John choo-choo-trains food into Maia's mouth and he laughs when applesauce dribbles onto her chin.

"Wow," Sherlock says.

"What?" John inquires, defensive.

"Former military man and current crime fighter feeds his daughter via choo choo train. Lestrade should tape _this_ on his phone."

John just laughs. They eat in a great deal of silence with the exception of Esme and Astor's whispers and giggles. Just like their father's, they always make up after an argument.

"Eat your peas," Sherlock instructs.

"But peas are gross!" Hamish shouts, a look of exhaustion already registering across his face.

"Don't you know that peas give you powers? That's why John is still alive. He would have died if he didn't eat his peas; he magnetizes any Consulting Detective in a 100-mile radius."

"Funny," John says and eyes his friend, annoyed.

"Your mother balances two powers; indescribable beauty and infinite knowledge."

Molly shakes her head and blushes.

"Mary has the ability to hug. Yes everyone can hug, but no one can hug like Mary. She can warm you up and make you happier just by wrapping her arms around you. Isn't that nice? Don't you want a power?"

"I want powers!" Astor chimes in and Hamish is already pummeling his peas in his mouth.

Molly laughs and leans over to whisper in Sherlock's ear, "You do realize that he will eat peas religiously now, don't you?"

"I have never heard of a pea related death or incident, so I think he'll be fine."

Molly laughs again and kisses him before returning to her seat.

Just as they finish their dinner, Maia begins to cry and fuss.

"Looks like that's our cue," Mary sighs.

Everyone cleans the table of their dishes and the small kitchen is comfortably crowded with the two families that are, in hindsight, one.

"See you tomorrow, dear," Mary says and kisses Molly on the cheek and hugs Sherlock tighter than ever on purpose, "May the power of hug compel you."

"You are so peculiar," Sherlock reinstates.

"Tell me about it," John shakes his head and shakes his friend's hand and hugs Molly before following his daughter and wife downstairs to 221C.

The clock tells Molly that it's time for Astor and Hamish to go to bed, "Alright, kiddies. Bed time."

The children groan, but make their way upstairs anyways, knowing full well that there is no way to extend the time before bedtime. The bedroom door closes partway leaving a wedge of light from the hallway to peak in. Sherlock watches as the lights turn off and then he sits down next to Molly on the couch. She snuggles into his side instantly, pulling the blanket up over both of them. Sherlock ignores the pain in his side from his possibly broken rib. He wraps his arm around her, bringing her closer, and he kisses the top of her hair.

"Astor and Hamish are asleep," Molly says, "We're alone. And it's quite. I love those kids, but I also love this. The peace."

"I know what you mean," Sherlock agrees and eyes the pirate hat that he gave to Hamish, sitting on the coffee table in front of them. What Sherlock hadn't known then, was that the best thing to be was a father. He kisses Molly again.

"Do you…wanna…" Molly asks uneasily.

"Truthfully? I'm…tuckered."

"Thank god," Molly sighs and maneuvers her way in a lying position, her head in his lap, "I am _exhausted._"

Sherlock takes one look at his wife and wonders which is better; being a father or a husband. For now, however, the jury was still out and it would be for a long time. He kisses her one last time before falling asleep, her head in his lap and his hand clasped in hers.

**BOOM! *cries because that's the last BOOM of this fic* Anyways lol, I really wish that I could have continued this further (this fic was so close to being a year old at 7/11/13 uwu) but I really felt that this is where it needed to end. I'm not sure if I'll spinoff with parent!lock or anything like that, but I'm still writing the Missing Piece. Besides that, I would like to thank all of you for your lovely reviews and constant support. Whether you were here from the beginning or just got here, you matter a lot to me. Seriously, I love you guys. Thank you so much!**

**Love,**

**Melanie.**


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